


Can Melisandre's fire god defeat the Ice of the North?

by DragonLdy



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Major character death - Freeform, Melisandre loves burning people to death, Possession, Sorrowful men, Sourcery, Wargs, Whitewalkers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-08-23 06:18:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 75,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8317081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonLdy/pseuds/DragonLdy
Summary: When Robb Stark hears the infamous Hound is in a tent, in Riverrun, threatening his wife Talisa he imagines the worst. He had no idea how limited his imagination really was: things are so much worse than he could have imagined.Sansa is aged up to Seventeen.





	1. Hound and King

**Robb**

  
The Stark camp was stationed at Riverrun, Hoster Tully was fading fast and his mother, Lady Catelyn spent all day and night with him, it was the easiest solution for her as she had committed treason by releasing the Kingslayer but as his Mother he could not put her in a cell. The camp extended past the keep's walls as different men under different banners trained in the distance King Robb looked out with a sigh, they needed more men, they needed the Freys, his uncle Edmure was a dolt; wanted glory and recognition for his work. He wanted to smack him for his foolishness and letting Clegane slip between his fingers. There was a rider coming into the Keep, he was riding his horse fast; too fast, it was one of the scouts; something had happened, Grey wind was up and barking and heading for the door before Robb had even turned, the wolf ran off without him and into the ranks; the scout was rushing forward; he wore the tunic of house Umber.

  
“My King the Lannister Hound is here.”

  
"The Hound? Sandor Clegane?"

"Aye your grace he galloped into the camp and knocked down the other sentry I was with then he made me bring him to a healers’ tent, I only just escaped, his woman is wounded and -" The sentry looked guilty at this point and terrified of his King. "I didn't know the Queen was in that healers tent your Grace I swear I didn’t-" Robb was up on the other man's horse and away before the man could finish, he'd seen the direction the man had come from and Grey Wind was ahead of him; that's why Grey Wind was so agitated because he knew something was happening to Talisa. The Mountain that rides had done untold damage to the river lands, he'd seen the remains of the poor women he had brutally raped and murdered and now that monster's brother was holding his wife captive, the ride only took a few minutes but to Robb it felt like hours.

  
When he got to the tent he saw a man splayed on the floor and two more standing at the entrance, he pulled his sword and stormed in at the sound of whimpering. The big man was telling Talisa something and she was looking at him patiently and kindly.

"I promise I will care for her as if she was my own sister but I have to cauterize the wound or she will lose the leg, there is no alternative." Talisa was saying, the man looked totally lost and bent down to the girl’s face, she was lying on a treatment table and her dirty black hair hid her face, Grey Wind had two paws on the side of the table and was resting his head on the girls chest, her hand buried in the fur of his neck. She whispered something to Clegane too low for Robb to hear from the doorway but the man nodded and then looked up at Talisa.

  
"Do what you need to." He took a belt bite and put it in the girls mouth, leaning over her and taking her hands as the attendants held down the girl's legs and the air was filled with first the girl’s screaming as the wound was cleaned with alcohol and then the awful acrid scent of burnt flesh, there were attendants and healers standing around with a few wounded on stretchers all watching the exchange, he was holding the girl down as she writhed in pain, screaming into her bit, he stayed with her and held her close. Robb felt totally useless and put his sword away, he approached the table and held down the girl’s other foot, partially to help and partially to get a better view of the Hound's face. He was bent over the girl's head and whispering what he thought must be soothing words to her as she whimpered and cried but didn't scream as much as Robb was expecting, Grey Wind lay on top of her upper body, pinning her down and preventing her from bucking. Finally, Talisa announced that the cauterizing was done and she was going to bandage up the leg.

  
"You've been very brave, this will only hurt a little bit more and it will all be over but we will give you more milk of the poppy to help." That was one of the things he found fascinating about Talisa; she could look at the most horrific wounds that festered and oozed puss but she would not react, she would chat pleasantly, didn't let the disgust show on her face or in her voice and chatted to the patient as she tended the wound or amputated the limb. She did that now; spoke calmly and with a hint of authority the Hound was watching her hands as she worked but kept the girl's hands in both of his then he noticed Robb for the first time and shock appeared on his face. Robb let go of the girl's leg and nodded his head to the entrance of the tent, he didn't feel easy about leaving the Lannister Hound with his wife but he could tell from the slackness in the girl's leg that she was unconscious and he felt like an intruder on this strangely intimate scene. He remembered him from Winterfell as being an angry aggressive sort who only scowled at people, he was different now; thinner definitely but there was desperation and concern on his face as he looked at the girl on the table, it didn't quite fit with the image he had in his head of a Clegane; Gregor raped and tortured and killed whereas Sandor rode into enemy barracks where he was likely to be arrested and/or killed to get his lady love's leg healed. Interesting.

  
There was a huge black horse in front of the tent, a few men tried to approach but ended up on the floor with kicks to their chests. His uncle Edmure chose that moment to arrive with twenty men on horseback.

  
"Robb I heard the Lannister Hound is here, what's happening? Has he come with terms? Has he any news of the Kingslayer?" He got down off his horse; cutting an impressive figure to all assembled but Robb had to try hard not to look at him with the contempt he deserved for his latest military disaster. Sandor Clegane came out of the tent at that point and Edmure greeted him with "I heard the Hound's bitch has gone lame. Still: easier access eh?" and without missing a beat the hound knocked him down with a single blow, the rage steaming off him. The soldiers immediately drew their weapons and pointed them at the man who had in one fluid movement punched Edmure and bent his knee before Robb. His hands were crossed on his other knee as he kneeled in the ankle deep mud, "as it please your grace, King Robb, King of the First men, Master of the Trident I have left the service of the Lannisters’, I escaped King's Landing fifteen days ago when it was taken by King Stannis and his Red Sorcerous. I have urgent news of the Lannister, Tyrell and Baratheon armies that I must speak with you about but mostly I need to talk to you about the red priestess: if you have anyone in your army who follows the God R'holler you must send them away now. They are bat shit crazy they burnt hundreds of people alive as offerings to their God in King's Landing; I have faced angry men, scared men and dangerous men but these fanatics are. . ." He is frowning like he's trying to find the words. "They burnt all the highborns; children and babes, they started with Joffery, Cersei and Tommen. I was never so relieved to be _only_ the second son of a minor house because the fuckers burnt everyone higher. They will burn you and your whole family if they get their hands on you, they believe your blood is special and your death by fire will ensure Stannis’ victory."

  
He paused not taking his eyes off Robb and waited for the King to give a signal that he may proceed. Everyone watching them was stunned into silence, his uncle Brynden arrived then with his mother, it was an odd scene to be sure and Lady Catelyn immediately started.

  
"This man should be in chains! Arrest him now!” The Hound didn’t move but kept his eyes on Robb, locking eyes with him. A few soldiers made to move forward to disarm him but Robb waved them away.

  
“You will disarm yourself and these men will take you into their custody until we can discuss this news you bring us.” The Hound nodded; his face made more ugly by the dirt and blood smeared on it.

“As a token of my fealty to your cause your grace I would present you with the Valerian steel sword Ice, which belonged to your Sire Lord Eddard Stark, Last Warden of the North" At this he unstrapped a sheath from his back and from his kneeling position which was only about a head or two shorter than Robb's standing position he presented the sheathed sword to him. Robb hesitated before accepting the weapon, it was probably a bad idea, this man was probably planning to kill him, this gesture of humility before him as a King was probably all for show. He had knocked Edmure completely unconscious and in the mud with a single blow from his bare fist so just because he handed over his weapons did not mean he was not dangerous. It was a terrible thing to attack a member of the family of the King in that way but Robb was impressed by it and e had to admit to himself a little envious, he had wanted to punch the cur for that comment about the girl too but he would not have been able to reprimand him publicly; being King ties one's hands in strange ways as Robb was quickly finding out.  
Robb drew the sword from the sheath and held it out; checking it for weight and balance, his soldiers did not lower their weapons but one was trying unsuccessfully to rouse Edmure. He had last seen the sword in Winterfell when his Father had it strapped to his back as he left with King Robert down the King's road, never to return, he had given up hope of seeing the blade again, had never bothered to hope for its return, there were other things he had lost that were more important, but this blade was his now and nearly two years after it was used to take Eddard Stark's head it was now in his hands. The Hound had an unreadable expression as he handed over the blade, he was still armed; he had a short sword and probably a few blades hidden about his person so Robb tried not to let this gesture blind him as to the fact that this man was still one of the most deadly men in all Westeros.

  
"This blade belonged to my Father; Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North, we are grateful to you for returning it.” He said this loudly for the benefit of the assembled men, "How did it come about that you were in possession of it?" The Hound’s face frowned more if that was possible and he sighed.

  
"Ser Illyn Payne had orders to take your sisters head with it if King's Landing fell to Stannis. I took it from him. . .I'm not sure what you have heard of the Red Sorcerous and her blood magic your grace but I can confirm that it is true; our men, my men who died in the Battle of the Blackwater; Lannister and Baratheon men they got up after they were killed and fought against us. That is how they took the city, cutting at them and hacking at them didn't work but when I used Ice it did work; the smallest cut and the dead were dead again. I know it sounds ridiculous," There were sniggers behind him in the ranks and the Hound scowled at this but he never broke eye contact with Robb, like he was desperate for Robb to look at him and see that this was truth, that this was the terrifying desperate truth. Robb didn't know what to believe: was the man mad? That made more sense but the fact that this man had wielded his Father's sword in a battle irked him in a strange way. "We believe that it may have something to do with the way Valerian steel was forged, they say the Valerians used some sort of magic in its construction and this seems to defeat their fire God's magic."

  
Lady Catelyn Stark was looking at the sword in her son's hand and had come closer to see this Lannister Hound in the face, she was sorely tempted to order that Robb take his head then and there, he was the ugliest man she had ever seen and his hideous burns were made no better by the fall of greasy hair and the filthy clothes he wore. "What news have you of my daughters? We have had no coherent news of them from King's Landing since Stannis took it. Are my daughters alive? Are they held by Lannister or Baratheon men?" They had received news that Stannis had taken the city and that Sansa was in his care but the whole message was wrong and there was no mention of Arya, her poor daughters, would she ever hold them in her arms again? Would her family never be whole again? What use had been letting the Kingslayer go if his family no longer held the girls?

  
He looked her in the face with cold grey eyes "Lady Arya has not been seen since Eddard Stark was arrested, she has been missing for nearly two years. but-"

  
"No, the letters! We had letters from Lord Tywin for a trade and Petyr, Petyr Baelish told me-" The man's dark scowl and shaking head stopped her and tears welled up in her eyes, her hand clasped to her mouth as she tried to compose herself in the light of this revelation. Robb felt like he had taken a fist to the stomach, he didn't think his mother could hold her composure if she heard any more bad news now so he came to a quick decision.

  
"You will be housed as our guest while we discuss your offer and your reward until your . . wife recovers and you can travel again." Hound's eyes snapped up at this and he asked, a disbelieving grin pulling at his lips giving him a devilishly hideous look.

  
"I . . . Didn't you recognize her? I thought when I saw you helping her in the tent that you must know who she was."  
Talisa came out of the tent then and did not seem interested at the unusual chaos outside. "She was lucky the animal only bit her without tearing any skin off how did you manage that?"

  
"She stabbed it in the ear when it bit, her boots stopped some of the impact but the jaw still clamped down hard on her leg, I had to cut right through the jaw muscles to get it off her."

"She is very thin, she will have to have a few hearty meals what was it that did that to her arms?"


	2. Flashback to Blackwater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I figured out my mistake with pasting and copying this work from my word documents to the AO3 sight, I'm going to edit all the work again so all the original paragraphs are back where they belong, please read the work again and I'm sure you'll understand it better now that I have the format sorted.

**Talisa**

She had heard the galloping hooves and some commotion outside but she was working in the hospital tent so she didn't think it had anything to do with her so she kept working until the tent flap opened and the biggest man she had ever seen in black leather armour came in with a squire in his arms, he looked around with a scowl on his burnt face and murder in his eyes, she stepped forward as others shied away from him and he locked eyes with hers.

"You! Are you a good healer?"

"I am but I'm not a maester."

"Good, maesters aren't worth shit." Talisa silently agreed with this statement and motioned to the table where they usually saw patients for him to put the lad down.

"She was bit by a mountain lion two hours ride away, I bandaged it up best I could but the bleeding never really stopped and she went feverish about twenty minutes ago now she won't wake up." The girl is dirty, her squire's clothes are damp rags, the bite is on the calf of her right leg, it is bandaged in a tight, soiled cloth. She started to remove it and the dried blood was joined by fresh wet blood as she pulled the scab away with the cloth.

"Clean the wound and make her right and there will be a reward for you, if she dies you die." The man tried to sound threatening but Talisa knew him, she had met many men like him who looked death in the face and met it head on when it had a sword but when they come face to face with a loved one who may die and a sword cannot save them they do not know what to do so they resort to being a terrifying warrior and threaten everyone around them.

"I will do everything I can to save her life and her leg." She answered honestly and had another healer bring the cauterizing equipment.

"Piss on that!" He had a dagger out and was pointing it at Talisa "You will not cut off her leg or burn her or I'll fucking gut you." The blade was pressed against Talisa’s throat and all the healers in the room went very still as did the patients watching the scene. Grey Wind came in then and propped himself up on the table and started licking the girl’s face which roused her from her slumber.

"Sandor" a little voice called from the table, the girl was trying to sit up and he went to her. "It's alright.” she had a dreamy voice from the milk of the poppy they had given her and blood loss, Talisa knew they didn't have time for this. "You promised no one would burn me and no one would hurt me or you'd kill them. Healers trying to save my life are exempt from that promise. It's alright, you can stop threatening people for me." Her head slumped back and her exhaustion become apparent. "You did everything you could no one could have done more but stop scaring the healers." She fell back then and he was up at her head again, the dagger had disappeared, he was holding her hand and looking at her with concern, thhe went back to Talisa, this time with no dagger but he controlled his anger as he spoke.

 

"You have to save her."tHis desperation and anxiety were the same as Talisa had seen in men a hundred times but each time it was unique to the individual.. She told him the same thing she told them all.

 

"I promise you I will care for her as if she was my own sister." He seemed marginally satisfied and returned to the girl's head while Talisa focused on the leg. With care you wouldn't expect from someone so big he but the belt biter in her mouth and Talisa started to clean the wound, the girl was very lucky she had been bitten but nothing had been taken away by the creature, the skin was torn and bruised but all still there. What Talisa found puzzling was the warrior’s reaction to the direwolf licking the girl’s face and snuggling into her neck, this wolf had killed men and feasted on their flesh and he was huge; most people were terrified of him even when they had been around him for months as she had been but the man made no attempt to push the wolf away and seemed comfortable in his presence. The girl screamed and whimpered into the biter and Talisa picked up the tongs, this seemed to cause them both a lot of fear as the man's face went white but he took Talisa's lead and talked to the girl as Talisa put the red hot poker against the girl's tender red muscle fibres to stop the arterial bleed for good. The girl stiffened and screamed as the now all too familiar smell of burnt flesh filled her nostrils and then she retched over the side of the table, the big man removing the biter as it happened.

Finally able to say it was finished Talisa congratulated the girl and told her how well she had done as her husband, the King, who she just noticed was there left the tent and the big man was wiping at the girl's face with a wet cloth that a terrified assistant had given him. After a few minutes the big man whispered into the girl's ear.

"I have to explain to the men outside what I'm doing here, stay here and don't wander off." The girl gave a weak smile in acknowledgement but was too far gone on milk of the poppy to reply coherently, "Don't let fire anywhere near her; burn all candles and torches at the other side of the room" It was an odd request but something about the man's face made her pause; he was a man tormented, a man at his wits end who hadn't slept or rested in days. Talisa gave him a nod as he stepped out and finished bandaging the leg, then she started to examine the rest of the girl for other injuries; the right leg of her breeches was cut open for the healer, the left leg was still covered; the girl had wet herself sometime in the last ten minutes, probably when the pain was too bad; she had bandages on her left arm that were soiled so Talisa unwrapped them and saw to the burnt flesh underneath, not the worst burns she'd ever seen but they seemed to be in the shape of a hand , she examined the girl's neck and abdomen, nothing odd there but burns on the other arm again in an odd shape like a hand of fire had gripped her then blistered and begun to heal and then another hand maybe five days later of fire had gripped her arm making a strange nine fingered hand print. This burn really would scar badly so she took some of her expensive oils and cleaned this burn hoping they would work and she wouldn't scar too badly. There were marks on her wrists and ankle as if she had been repeatedly tied up, she had been tortured but not by this man, he looked at her with too much concern; he had not been her tormentor. No wonder he had been afraid of her burning the girl.

This couple were a puzzle; she was fare of face but burnt under her clothes; he was burnt on his face but seemed physically whole, he was terrifying and aggressive but a few words from her and he was undone. They both showed obvious signs of exhaustion and undernourishment, she wondered when the girl had last eaten, it made all the difference with milk of the poppy, she opened the girl's eyes and looked at the iris to determine how the girl was, checking her pulse at the same time, her eyes were a striking bright blue that reminded her of her own husband's no wonder she had a great warrior madly in love with her. Talisa then went to the tent flap to see the men...................

"The girl was burnt badly before on her arms, are there any other injuries I should see to?" The scarred man looked at her and then her husband apparently struggling for an answer. "She may have a few bruises from when the damned lion tried to pull her off her horse; nothing I could be sure of, she slammed three of the fingers of her right hand in a door about three weeks ago, I don’t know how well they’ve healed and as for other injuries. . . We haven't stopped for the last three days for food or rest, we stopped our mounts for some water occasionally but mostly we've been on the go since escaping King's Landing 15 days ago, does exhaustion count as an injury?"

Talisa tutted disapprovingly. "It is a miracle that girl is still alive if this is how you treat her, why did you push such a pace on her?"

"Did you see the burns on her arms? The things that did that were behind us the whole way." He is looking at King Robb now in a strange pleading way and Robb has a strange look on his face and goes back into the tent motioning for her to follow him. He gently touches the sleeping girl's face and rubs his fingers through her hair rubbing his fingers together afterwards. He then went to the entrance and brought his mother in by the hand and led her to the prone figure, the girl has long limbs and a womanly figure under her layers of clothes but she is not at her best. For the first time since she met her Talisa sees Lady Catelyn Stark lose her lady like demeanour and composure as she weeps over the sleeping girl's body, taking her hand in hers and kissing it again and again while pushing the short hair out of the girl's face, Robb has tears in his eyes now too and he is hugging his mother's shoulders as they look at the girl and Talisa realizes that the promise she made about caring for this girl as if she was her own sister was strangely accurate.

 

**Sandor**

Sandor stayed in his kneeling position outside the tent waiting for the King to return, he had promised Seaworth that he would get her to her family in one piece, what an epic failure that had turned into, she no longer had her Tully red hair, had burns on her arms and less than half a day’s ride from her brother's camp she had been mauled by a mountain lion. A bloody mountain lion! As if all the crap they had to put up with the last few weeks wasn't enough, when that healer woman had talked about removing the leg he felt like he was going to be sick, when had it all gone so insane? Thank the Gods who he didn't believe in for Ned Stark's sword; it was heavy and cumbersome  not as heavy as castle forged steel but still a great weight but by the Stranger it did the job when it came to finishing Reds. That was the name Sansa came up with for them: White walkers beyond the wall made Wights and the Red Woman; _Lady_ Melisandre with her cursed fire magic made Reds with skin still charred and falling off them in places and bright red eyes that burnt with some internal fire. They would have consumed him that night on the Blackwater, he lead his men out onto the beach and they fought and died and caught fire and stumbled around unseeing and screaming, he ended up killing a few of them out of mercy because the fire was consuming them too fast or they stumbled toward him and reached out to him; Wildfire melting their skin and they reached for him. . . The third time he lead his men out there was something wrong, very wrong; there were more people walking on the beach than there should have been, they were not making enough noise, in battle you always get men making noise; they scream their own personal battle cries and wave their swords around and bang them against their shields but these men just walked towards them and some of them were on fire, still on fire, their pace didn't change as they were hit by arrows from above and when they got closer he saw that some of them wore the typical Lannister armour or gold cloaks armour, they came closer and he saw the glow in their eyes; not a reflection but a red glow from inside them; all of them and they all burned, he hacked at them with his sword and gave his own nonsensical battle cry and continued hacked cutting off limbs and stabbing torsos but it didn't stop them, they came no matter how he cut them. Decapitaion worked to some extent but it is exhausting to try and kill people with one carefully placed blow to the neckline in a standing position and was not how this warrior was trained.

Finally, he got back into the City Walls and gulped some wine to take the soot out of his throat only to have the imp ask him for a report "A report? Here's your report the dead are walking and killing the living, we're fucked!" Joffrey and the Imp were up on the parapet; they had seen, must be able to see the sea of the undead coming for them. The imp said something about standing and fighting but all he could think, all he could say was "Fuck the city, Fuck the King’s guard, Fuck the King." He had wanted to say that ever since that bugger Joffrey first ordered for the little bird to be beaten, it was worth it to see the boy's face.

The Little Bird: she'd be here somewhere, Maegor's holdfast or her room, he wanted to see her first, wanted her to look him in the face, it was the least she owed him after all the shit he'd been through, he grabbed another wine skin from a passing squire boy and started to drain it as he headed for her room, he knew where her room was, found himself patrolling that corridor a lot. As he walked he heard a scream that he recognized, his Little Bird was in a corridor and screaming, as he ran he thought about how he would have to discipline her for being out by herself, at night, again! Didn't she know that the worst pillaging and raping that went on when a city was being sacked was done by the people already inside the city? He turned a corner to find her crying on the floor and that tongueless dickhead Ser Illyn standing over her with a great sword and a look of glee on his face. Sandor didn't hesitate, he had had too much wine, been fighting for hours but he still relished the chance to kill this fucker.

Their swords clashed and she edged away from the fight but stared in fear as Sandor dug his dagger into the cur's gut and twisted it then Ser Illyn made that familiar throaty death cry and dropped his sword. The Hound threw his head back and laughed at the hilarity of it. She was staring at him with abject fear and looking at the bloody sword in his hand, a pleading look in her eyes.

"Did you, did you. . . Did you know he had orders to kill me if the city fell?" Sandor stared at the blood on his blade and the pool of it on the floor.

"No it was just dumb fucking luck that I was on my way to see you." In knightly stories there are ways the knight pledges his troth, tells the fair maid he will do anything for her, gets on one knee and promises to keep her chastity and body safe but he settled for. "I'm getting the fuck out of the city, wann’a come with me?" What would she have said? He would wonder on that for the rest of his life, he was covered in blood, vomit and soot and he could barely stand he was so drunk but dammit he had just saved her _again_. According to the songs he should be cock deep in her sweet cunt as a reward for all the monsters he had slain for her, that was a thought; what if he did just that? Took her from the city and reminded her of what the reward had been for braving curses to save sleeping beauty, what the prince had gotten for saving Rapunzel. All the stories talked about the trapped princess and the fair prince who rescues her, none of them talk about what happens if the fair prince is cruel and the worst of the monsters, if the ugly monster of a guard is the fiercest and most protective of the monsters. He was so afraid and the battle strength was still in him, making his hands shake but he wanted her to come willingly, later, when he had her alone, no one knowing where they were then he would take his reward, no one would ever hurt her again and he would keep her safe, he would make her sing for him, a half formed plan was already in his head but she was just staring at the ever spreading pool of blood on the floor like she couldn't take her eyes off it.

At that moment they heard people coming from further along the hall who turned out to be Baratheon looters he dispatched them quickly enough but as he moved to leave, dragging the little bird behind him she cried out.

"No, the sword; it was my Fathers!" she ran back and stepped delicately over Payne's remainsand lifted the huge sword. She had seen it take her Father's head, had been attacked by Ser Illyn who was planning to take her head but she still wanted the damn thing, granted he was probably the only man in the keep who could wield such a great sword but still. . . He considered it for a moment and then let out a bark of laughter it was just like one of her bloody songs. Her father's sword used to protect her by her not-a-knight, he took it from her and made a few motions testing the balance.

"I've never killed with Valerian steel before, what do you think? Will Ned Stark's ghost rise up against me if an unworthy dog wields his family sword?" he had a wicked smile as usual but Sansa instead of sobbing looked angry.

"You’ve protected me more than anyone else here, who else here should yield it? Also I'm not leaving it lying around for anyone to have, use it or give it to me." She held out her hand for the blade, fully intending to carry the heavy thing herself but his face darkened as he could see a mark on her shoulder; Illyn had pulled her dress down and scratched her skin, that made him want to bring the bastard back and kill him all over again. Ironically that was the moment three Reds attacked: one of them was Ser Illyn Payne and the others were the Baratheons he had just killed. They attacked and the Lannister Hound defended her with her family sword and for the first time that night felt like he was winning when he cut them down and they died in the real sense.

When Robb Stark asked how he had come by the sword he was tempted to tell that version of the tale but then he had lost the sword and gotten it back later so it was not the story that directly led to him having the sword at this time. He felt the loss of the sword, it had saved them more times than he could count these past three weeks. He kneeled in the mud and waited for his sentence, if she was in one piece they would have been happy and showering him with praise but she was burnt and battered and bruised and now unconscious with milk of the poppy. He wondered if they'd give him a trial before they executed him, the men were impulsive and ill-disciplined he could hear them talking low amongst each other about how they should finish off the hound now. His body was tense, he knew who would attack, it was the green boy next to the loudest speaker who would be egged on by his mates; convinced that this would be an honourable act to kill the Lannister Hound as he kneeled seemingly unarmed in the mud. He readied himself for the attack; his stance in the mud was such that he could see the men behind him in the shiny armour of the man in front of him, when there was movement behind him he'd be ready. He had a blade in his boot and at his waist, he would be ready. The Direwolf had left Lady Sansa's side and was now standing in front of Sandor; sniffing him and rubbing its face against his face, nuzzling his cheeks with his cheeks. Sandor relaxed a little and lifted his hand to the wolf's face and scratched his ears, the Direwolf was easily twice the size of the other wolves and he could tell that it had fed recently by the bits of dried blood on its muzzle. He heard the silence as it spread through the growing crowd; this direwolf ripped men to pieces, went into battle and led the charge against Lannister men and now he was petting it. King Robb came from the tent and looked taken aback by the scene.

"Sandor Clegane, you will be held in custody in the Riverlord's Keep until we can determine what best to do with you." He glances at the man on the floor and looks around at the men gathered; "Lord Bolton will you see that Sandor Clegane is housed and given guest rights." Sandor feels the hairs on his neck rise but shows nothing on his face.

"My thanks your majesty." He felt the loss of the sword more now as he was handed over to Bolton and his men.


	3. It would be easier to believe The Hound is mad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So deviated a bit from canon here that the Bolton men are at Riverrun instead of Harrenhall, Rickard Karstark hasn't murdered anyone yet so things should get interesting for Sandor and his safety as they all want his blood.

**Robb**

Sansa looked so different from the girl he had seen two years ago, her face was freckled from being outside, her skin dirty, her hands dirty and harder than he remembered, nails chipped and black with dirt. Arya had worn breeches all the time but Sansa had always been too much of a lady, now she was wearing soiled thread bear breeches, one of the legs cut open in an undignified way to allow access to her wound ; she was a mess. It was the silence outside the tent that got his attention, the men had been getting louder and more rowdy in the insults they were throwing at Sandor Clegane and then they stopped. That made him uneasy so he went outside. 

The Hound was a conundrum; he was the Lannister hound as loyal and obedient as his namesake, yet he had abandoned them, he was King Joffrey’s sworn shield but he stole his betrothed and returned her to her family. He was a fierce warrior by reputation but when he looked at Sansa on that table he looked genuinely vulnerable, he'd knocked down Edmure with a single blow: he was dangerous but he had been defending Sansa's honour when he hit Edmure. He had returned Sansa but she had clearly been mistreated; tied up and burnt by some monster.. Gregor Clegane maybe? Had Sandor then rescued her and brought her here for reward? Here was another conundrum the Hound was petting Grey Wind as if it was the most natural thing in the world and the wolf was responding, most of the men including Talisa were scared shitless of the wolf when it approached them; he often growled at people for their fear but he seemed to like the Hound. Robb had to make a decision and make it fast this man had saved Sansa and returned his Father's sword therefore he could not be treated like a prisoner but there were men here who would kill him just for being a Lannister, just for being a Clegane without stopping to find out about him: The Karstarks had long been demanding he kill Lannister prisoners as recompense for the sons he had already lost, Edmure would be coming round soon and Robb knew he would shame him by demanding the Hound's head outright, he looked at the assembled faces, who could he trust to follow his orders and not their own petty feuds? 

Lord Bolton was standing at the edge of the crowd with his cold grey eyes; he'd lost a son but he also had a bastard he wanted to legitimize, he did his duty even if he was a bit too keen on torture he was loyal to House Stark, he was not a man who let his emotions rule his actions like the River lords or the Karstarrks would. 

"Lord Bolton: you will see that Sandor Clegane is housed and given full guest rights. He is not to be harmed and we will question him later when we have time." Lord Bolton took charge and had his guards move forward. 

The Hound thanked him. "Your majesty I have a valuable horse and all I own is in his saddle bags will you take command of him?" Robb suddenly felt angry; he was a king was Clegane mocking him by asking him to mind his saddle bags? "I take care of my own animals, feed them myself, train them myself and if they die I bury them myself" Robb started at hearing his Father's words coming from the strange man's mouth, had Sansa told him? Why had she told him? Was this Clegane's way of showing Robb he could be trusted? If so why had he signalled for Robb not to say anymore with a shake of his head? Robb walked towards the huge black horse and Clegane followed, taking the horse's reins and settling him as Robb gave a cursory glance at the contents of the bags, one had a bag of gold in it; that explained Clegane's protectiveness of it he supposed, then he heard a whisper. "I need to talk to you as soon as your free; in private if possible, don't let anyone go through those bags." Bolton approached and Robb took the bags and watched as Clegane was led away by the Bolton men, they flanked him on all sides; treating him as being in danger and as a dangerous man. Curiouser and curiouser, Robb had a horrible feeling that there would be something in the bag like a marriage certificate between Sansa and Clegane that the man would consider that an appropriate reward for returning her, he put the bags over his squire's shoulder and ordered him to stay close then organized a covered cot to carry Sansa back to Keep, Talisa caused a fuss saying it was unnecessary and bad for the wound but his sister could not be held in a tent with common soldiers. 

It all took a full watch to get her back to the Keep, his Mother was upright and lady like as they went to her ancestral keep, her uncharacteristic outburst forgotten, Edmure had been revived and demanded to speak to him and uncle Brynden was trying to placate him in the hall as they arrived, Robb kept the squire holding the bags close to him and brought the men to his solar and sent for Clegane. "Lord Edmure you made a comment about my sister that was crass and unbecoming of a Lord of your station, Clegane reacted as any of my men would, as I would, for an insult to the princess of the north so you need to stay calm and we need to find out from him what he knows." Edmure looked like he was going to argue again but he got a warning look from Bynden and stopped. Clegane was ushered in a few minutes later wearing only his clothes, his black armour had been removed but he was still impressively big without it, having seen what he had done to Edmure with a single punch all of the men kept a wary distance. Lord Bolton stood beside him and watched as Clegane again dropped to one knee and waited for the King to speak. There were a few Northern bannermen in the solar, all anxious to hear and sea this Hound.  


"You are the Lannister Dog." Robb began.

"My own hound now your majesty." 

"We received word that King’s Landing was under siege having been taken by King Stannis, why are you not fighting with your brother and your liege lord?" He seemed to flinch at the mention of his brother. 

"I was put in the Black cells with the rest of the highborns and nobles of the castle after King’s Landing was taken, Stannis kept us all locked in there together and every day they came and took those of the most noble birth; the ones with royal blood away to be burnt at stakes to their fire God; men, women, children, they took them. I am only the second son of a minor house so they were leaving me for last." His words chilled Robb to the bone as he heard the truthfulness there. 

"We have only had a few reports but they are sketchy at best. Can you confirm that all of Cersei Lannister's children are dead?" Lord Bolton asked.

"No, Princess Myrcella sailed for Dorne a week before the battle of the Blackwater but Queen Cersei, King Joffrey and Prince Tommen were all burned to death outside the great Sept of Baelor only now it's the House of Light or some such." There was a pause as everyone assembled took in this news and what it meant. He continued with an almost emotionless account; "They made Princess Sansa watch as they burned the royal family, apparently Cersei demanded a trial, said there would be ransoms, offered the red priestess land, money and power but the Red Bitch said that they were offerings to their God, that they should be proud to be _cleansed by fire_ " He looked like he had a bitter taste in his mouth as he said these last words, "She's a religious fanatic of the worst kind and if you have anyone in your camp who follows this R'holler than you must get rid of them now." This was not how anyone in the room was expecting this interview to go. "Princess Sansa can tell you when she wakes up but she was pretty traumatized by the whole thing, they did things she wouldn't even tell me about," Maege Mormont took note of that statement and looked around at the other bannermen. "They burnt people every day and made her watch and they tried to convert her, read to her from their unholy scriptures and made her look into flames for hours on end and gave her potions so she'd have visions about their God. They had planned to marry her to one of Stannis' bannermen. Then the Red Witch eventually decided that Lady Sansa wasn't going to be as easily swayed as King Stannis or Queen Serys so she. . " He paused here and wondered what he should say, Sansa had told him about that in confidence with tears of shame rolling down her pretty face, it wasn't necessary for them to hear how Melisandre had come to her one night in her bed chamber and asked her how she felt about Lord what's-his-name they were trying to set her up with and told her about the untold power she could enjoy if she became a priestess to their cause, how they didn't have any of the ridiculous restrictions that these foolish septas had, that they encouraged their followers to enjoy all that life had to offer. 

"Then she kissed me," Sansa said tears flowing down her cheeks, unable to look at Sandor who sat in the small ship's cargo holdwhere they would be sleeping, an arm's length away from her, "It was. . .at first on my cheeks and on my forehead and then she started kissing me on the mouth and I tried to push her away, I really did, I tried to be polite, she is terrifying you have no idea, I've seen her order fifteen people to be put to the flame she lights most of the fires herself, I've seen them all burn under her orders and people enjoy it because she makes them believe it's. . it's. . .right, religious, holy. In some ways that was worse than watching and hearing the people burning to death because under normal circumstances people would cry out in outrage and try to stop it but these people just watched in silence they didn't even enjoy watching the pain the way Joffrey and Meryn did, they were-. . they were like people hearing hymns at Sevenmas only more intense. I was so afraid of her, of making her angry so when she started kissing me I didn't know how to make her stop and. . and she had me on the bed and got undressed" Sandor was getting angry now, he had known, had known the minute Davos got him out of the Black Cells and handed Sansa over to him that something had happened. He could tell by the way she didn't look Davos in the eye, and kept looking at her feet; she'd been violated in some way, not just mistreated but violated and here it was: that bloody priestess had done it, what a cunt! Doing something like that to an innocent girl, if she were a man Sandor could understand it, had grown up around men forcing themselves on women but this was totally new to him and the girl was crying her eyes out, should he try to comfort her? Would she welcome his touch or recoil from it? 

He patted her lightly on the shoulder making the smallest amount of contact to let her know he was there and she surprised him by jumping into his arms and wrapping hers around his neck and sobbing into his chest as she went on.

"She made me undress too, I was just in my night shift anyway and she told me I was a very special girl because I had the blood of eight thousand years of Kings in my veins and the blood of warriors like my Father and my brother and my Uncle Brynden Tully and that they all made my blood special but she could see now that I would never convert to R'Holler and then she tied my hands to the bed post and. . . " Sandor came out of his reverie and continued: 

"The Red bitch said that Lady Sansa had special blood" he had forgotten to call her Princess, all these titles were getting befuddled in his head "Said that the thousands of years of Kings and all the brilliant warriors in her family made her valuable so they were going to offer her to him in the morning; burn her at the stake I mean," this statement got the exact amount of horror and disbelief he'd been expecting, "That's when a . . .friend got her out of her room and got me out of the black cells and showed us how to get out of the city, we've been moving toward the Riverlands ever since by ship and by land but then about a week ago we met a band of Lannister men who told us that there was a price for Lady Sansa of ten thousand gold dragons and a lordship if she is returned to King's Landing alive to Tywin but the same price is offered by the Red Woman to who ever burns her to death. This man also said that there isn't a red headed girl left in the crown lands that hasn't been brought before Lord Tywin or snuck into the city somehow and that even though the red head girls aren't princess Sansa she still burns them to her fire God." 

He remembers Sansa two days after they left King's Landing suddenly falling to the floor of their little cabin and thrashing screaming and telling him she was on fire, if he hadn't seen young Robert Aryn's shaking fits he would have thought that was what these were, two and three times a day she would scream that she was burning and he would hold her and rock her, sometimes slap her and shout at her, sometimes throw cold water over her and other times like the coward he was he'd walk away so he couldn't hear her damn screams anymore. Everyone of those red headed girl's final, miserable minutes on this earth, that bitch Melisandre made her experience them as if they were happening to her, he tried to believe it was just the girl's mind coming unhinged, he tried to believe that it was just the madness that ran in her family that Lysa Tully Arryn clearly suffered from, he tried to ignore the smell of burnt flesh that wafted off of her whenever these episodes happened and then left as soon as they were over. Sorcery; it was a terrifying thing. 

"Your majesty these fanatics don't care about money or land or glory they just believe that burning your sister and you alive will ensure their God's ultimate victory so I am _begging_ you to only allow people you trust to guard her; only people who definitely don't believe in this fire God. . . or money and a lordship." King Robb's face went from disbelief to disgust and confusion during this tale but it was Edmure Tully who finally spoke out. 

"So why did this friend release you to help Princess Sansa, surely there was someone of a better reputation, better suited to rescue her or-" 

"There was no one else and whatever my reputation is in the North I can tell you what it is in King's Landing; I'm loyal, I follow orders and I kill all those who try to stop me. Plus she insisted that I be her sworn shied." 

"Your concern for my sister is touching but if she has been under your protection since King's Landing then how did she come by her current injuries? It looks like she has been tied up and burnt. Did Stannis do that to her?" Talissa had already guessed the burns were about ten days old so he knew it wasn't that, the hounds eyes flickered there and Robb felt an anger long suppressed rise in him, what had happened? Who had hurt his sister? 

"His Red woman has power like you don't want to imagine, I didn't believe it, wouldn't want to believe the things I've seen were possible. Before I start you have to give orders to the people caring for your sister, to her guards as well that under no circumstances is there to be any fire near La- Princess Sansa; odd things happen when she is near flames so no candles, lanterns or fires in hearths anywhere near her you have to give this order." Robb was beginning to wonder if this man hadn't gone a bit mad under all the strain, he seemed quite demented but he supposed the boy he'd guarded since infancy had been murdered in a most horrific way no wonder he was over cautious with Joffrey's betrothed. 

"Yes, Edmure go to my mother and tell her." He felt it only proper to give the man this strange request if it loosened his tongue. Sandor stood from his kneeling positon and then began the shortest version of the tale he could manage. 

"They attacked King's Landing from Blackwater Bay about three weeks ago, the Imp used wild fire against them, it seemed to work, burnt through all their ships and the men on them but then as we fought those that reached the shore the dead got up and started towards us again, she resurrected them somehow, we call them reds because their eyes glow red and if Whitewalkers have Wights then the Red Woman has Reds. Nothing killed them, they were mostly already burnt, many still on fire, hacking at them and filling them full of arrows none of it worked except cutting off the head or severely damaging the skull but there's only so much of that I could do before my rms got tired. Then I went back to the Red Keep, we barred the doors to the bay but there was no point dead men inside King's Landing were getting up too. At the Red Keep I recognized Lady Sansa's screams and found Ser Illyn Payne, the King's Justice trying to take her head same as he'd done to her Father so I cut him down, then there were some Baratheon Guards and then the Red Keep just seemed full of Reds and Lady Sansa insisted I take your Father's sword and it killed the undead properly not like my plain steel sword had. I brought Princess Sansa to her room until the killing had died down a bit." The room lit green by the wildfire in the bay, her tearfully trying to take off her blood stained dress, not all of it blood, skin melts like cheese and that thing had grabbed her leaving a sticky melted smear on her sleeve, he helped to undress her and wash her and then don a grey dress she had, she hadn't worn it since before her father died, Cersei made her wear Lannister colours, she returned the favour and washed his face and hands then tried to wipe the worst of the blood and smears off his armour, whatever happened she knew Stannis would keep her as a hostage to have some semblance of control over Robb and his Northern army; probably reward a loyal Bannerman with her as a prize they talked all night about what they could do, escaping the city now seemed impossible. All night not touching after their initial toilette, waiting for one of Stannis's men to come and get them. He sobered up and the battle fatigue came on him as he wiped down the valerian steel blade, he had never held one let alone fought with one, it gladdened and calmed him to polish and hone it, he remembers her watching him with a small smile as he cleaned it, he had wondered what was going on behind those bright blue eyes that she smiled at him like that in this circle of hell they were living in. The memory of that calm sweet smile she had given him got him through the worst hours in the dark cells. 

She decided to tell them that he was her sworn shield; that way they wouldn't separate them, he thought it was a bloody stupid idea but when the men came to the door for her, nearly knocking it down with their banging she only felt safe leaving with them if the hound was with her and as their orders had only been to bring her they decided not to argue with her. 

"When we were brought before King Stannis who now sat on the Iron throne with his red Woman to his right whispering in his ears about his glorious victory, Princess Sansa repeated all the courtesies she'd been practicing about how her Father had been betrayed trying to claim the throne in Stannis' name, same as he had done for his brother, how he had written King Robert's Last Will and Testament carefully putting in that he was to be guardian until King Robert's rightful heir came of age how he had put _rightful heir_ instead of Joffrey Baratheon because he couldn't bare to tell King Robert of Cersei and Jamie's deceit while he was on his death bed, how Cersei rip up the will and had him arrested and how he only swore before the new gods that he had tried to claim the throne for himself because he was afraid they would torture his daughter." There is an uncomfortable shift in the room as all of the northern bannermen and Robb hear for the first time how Eddard Stark truly came to confess, not just supposition but a first hand account.

"It's true then that King Joffrey and the others are the Kingslayer's children?" Maege Mormont did not mince words and wanted to hear the truth about this once and for all.

"Of course it is. I thought everyone knew that by now." The Hound answered incredulously.

"To hear it from a Raven's message and to have it confirmed by Joffrey's sworn shield are two different things." She points out, "How can you be sure?"

He sighs and shuffles his feet trying to find the right words. "I know because I was Cersei's shield for a time before I was exclusively Joff's, she always sent the guards on her room away when she was alone with her brother. She hated her husband more than anything, she had always been a bit in love with Rhaegar and  never really forgave Robert for killing him. She hated your family too-" he nodds toward Robb, "She raised hell in Casterly Rock when her Father couldn't arrange a marriage alliance between her and Rhaegar and he married Ellia instead, I heard about it when I lived there later, but then Rhaegar abducted your aunt and she had a girl nearly beaten to death by her guards she was so furious. Always been a bitter jealousy there that Lyanna was taken and she wasn't." Robb's face is going red with rage but there is a knowing frown and nodding from a few of the assembled bannermen and the Hound quickly continues. "Of course a woman doesn't _want_ to be abducted and a war started over her but Cersei took it as a bit of a personal insult that it wasn't her he took and has hated Lady Lyanna and the Starks ever since. For that alone she would have made Sansa suffer in King's Landing even if all the rest hadn't come out.

"Also another wound to her pride was that Robert still wanted Lyanna more than her; talked about her for hours when he was drunk, his whores said he called her name when he came, for a woman like Cersei that was like twisting the knife. The day Myrcella was born with her golden hair she looked like the cat who'd got the cream, Joff was a toddler then, Jamie visited her after she was born, I stood guard outside. Robert had whores all the time and barely went near Cersei but she always went to his rooms and got him very drunk about eight months before the next one would be born, the nights he visited her room she always sent me to get moontea for her, pretty much everyone in the Red Keep knew except Robert what was going on." He sees a few of them flinch at his familiar way of talking about the royal family and his coarse description of Robert's sexual deviancy.

"She purposefully made sure she didn't have King Robert's child?" Robb asked in disbelief.  


"Like I said she hated him."  


"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Robb has to ask, its too strange to comprehend.   


"Who would I tell? My liege Lord? He'd have my head for fear of it getting out. King Robert? He would have had my head too for knowing about it and saying nothing for as long as I did. There had been rumours at Casterly Rock when I was a squire there, stuff about them sleeping in each other's rooms so everyone assumed Tywin did know and if he didn't then you wouldn't want to be the one to stick your neck out and make an allegation like that, would you?" The room was silent as everyone considered this new information so everyone in the Red Keep knew and stayed silent but Lord Stark spoke out and lost his head for it. 

"Her own brother?" Rickard Karstark asks with disgust; more a statement than a question and they all pause in thought.  


"Stannis listened and said Lord Eddard Stark should have been rewarded for his loyalty but that you as a usurper would be punished if you did not bend the knee and he asked if she would write a letter to you about that and she said she would but then he insisted I be taken away and put in the Black Cells as I was a Lannister man and someone better would be chosen as her sworn shield-"

"We received no letter."

"I'll get to that. They marched me away to the cells while she tried to convince them what a good shield I was, I'd left your father's sword in her room in case they tried to take it from us, she didn't want the Red woman getting her hands on it as it was the only thing that killed Reds. While I was in the Black Cells there was no way to tell how much time had passed, they crammed us all in on top of each other and sometimes food would be brought but it was a bit of bread and dirty water, people died of thirst down there waiting for the Red Bitch to come with her Red guards to choose the next victims. I don't know when it was but Lady-Princess Sansa managed to convince Stannis that she would write to you if they would bring her down to see me and she brought me food and wine, enough to keep me alive. Then she used the conditions I was living in as an excuse not to write the letter to you and Stannis got annoyed but the Red Bitch said of course I would be cared for as long as she wrote what they wanted. After-"  


"Why would Princess Sansa go to so much trouble over you?" Great Jon, disbelieving, asks what everyone is clearly thinking.  


"I asked her and she had a few different reasons, they all made some sense, one of them was that this was a test to see how different Melisandre was from Cersei, when her Father was arrested they lied to her and kept her from everyone and told her that if she wrote that letter about Lord Stark trying to take the throne that they would let him take the Black and go North if Lord Robb came south and bent the knee. At the time Lord Stark had a broken leg and she didn't know anything about her household being killed or her father's men being killed or the incest, the only sense she could make of it all was that he must have gone mad from fever or milk of the poppy and that was why it had all happened. She thought if you, your majesty, came to King's Landing you could sort it all out. Then when they brought him up from the Black Cells barely able to walk, covered in his own filth she realised they had been mistreating him the whole time, she never thought they would hurt him like that, she had thought he would be treated as any highborn prisoner. When Stannis was King and she heard we were all in the Black Cells she wanted to see them for herself, to see where your father had been kept, as for keeping me alive. . . she wanted to see how honest Melisandre would be about this promise of getting me better living conditions. She was right too, later I found out it was two days but it felt like five she bribed one of her guards with jewellery to bring her down to the Black Cells to see me and I hadn't been treated any better so she knew Stannis was a liar, that was the night she slammed the door on two of the fingers of her right hand to break them; eventually by torture, drugging her or persuasion they would have made her write to you so she figured if she couldn't write legibly then you'd be safe." There is an accusatory look in his eye as he says this and everyone in the room feels for this brave girl. "Of course they knew she had done it on purpose but she said the Red Bitch just wrapped her fingers in a splint and told her that she had the strength of warriors in her blood. There were other things happening, she was scared when she visited me in the Black Cells, more than usual." He added to see if there would be any rise out of her Kingly brother. "Then one night, a man came and took me from my cell, he brought me to a boat where Lady Sansa had my war horse and all my things packed and he made me promise to take her North and protect her, he didn't trust me and made me promise three times that I wouldn't rape or molest her but even as I promised I could see he didn't believe me, but still he thought I was better than the alternative which says a lot about how they had been treating her. 

"I could barely stand as I'd been chained to a wall for a week and all my muscles were stiff but I swore to keep her safe and get her back to her family. Later in the ship we were smuggled to she told me about how they had tried to convert her, how they had burnt the Godswood down and renamed the Sept of Baelor and burnt all the statues, how they burnt the septas and septons and made her watch. How they made her watch as they burnt Lords and Ladies as well as 8 year old Tommen, lots of them she didn't care about but Tommen was a sweet child. They wanted to marry her to some Baratheon bannerman and he was trying to court her, he bought her dresses and jewels and escorted her to the bonfires like it was a Sunday picnic and she had to hold it together and pretend she wasn't watching people roast alive. He even told her how the bonfires were constructed so the people lived for as long as possible sothey could be fully _cleansed by his holy fire."_ He spat these last words out in disgust.  


"One night at the Red Keep the Bitch tied Lady Sansa up so she couldn't move and took three leeches and put them on her, when they were full of her blood she gave them to Stannis and had him throw them into a fire while saying the name of all the people he wanted dead, a leech for a life style of thing. He said the traitor Tywin Lannister, the usurper Balon Greyjoy and the usurper Robb Stark." There is a noticeable shift in the room at this part of the story as  they all look at Robb to see his reaction. "Then she said they would burn Sansa on the morrow and all these things would come to pass so this friend got us out of there and we got a boat: travelled by land and sea ever since.  


"We went up the coast around crack claw point, we could see the siege of the city; Lannister and Tyrell banners, they didn't have the sea properly sieged though so we made good time, we were trying to reach Riverrun via the trident but . . . The boat caught fire and sank, we travelled by land for a while until we could get a riverboat at Maidenpool but that caught fire and sank too. “Things have a tendency of catching fire around her your majesty, it’s that cursed Red Bitch’s magic, it follows her. We've been travelling by land ever since trying to reach your army your grace." There was general muttering between the assembled men until Robb spoke. 

"The burns on my sister's arms are more recent than that." 

"The Reds your grace, I tried to protect her at all times but they attacked once when I was asleep and once when I had let her go too far away to have a wash in a river, we didn't hear them coming, should've been closer, all it took was one of them touching her and not letting go for her skin to burn like that." He shook his head at the horrible memory of her semi naked body in the water as the undead arm and torso tried to pull her towards it and she couldn't fight back, called _his name_ , called for help, she didn't wash alone after that or go near rivers where dead things lurked in the deep. Robb's eyes went to Brynden Tully and Roose Bolton, none of this made sense. 

“The Lannister forces surrounding King's Landing what can you tell us of them.” Lord Bolton, the practical one asks.

Clegane looked at the Lord and started naming a long list of banners he had recognized from the boat: Lannister and Tyrell forces but he also described how these forces were arranged around king's Landing and how now that most of Stannis's fighters were dead they didn't need food or sleep, they couldn't feel cold and they just stood on the battlements their eyes glowing red in the dark and it seemed to him that the attacking forces were being consumed and converted, same as his were by men who were dead and killed but couldn't be killed. "But even if the red woman falls Stannis still has many living Bannermen and supporters." He finished.

"You are weary Clegane and I need to discuss these new developments with my men, go to your chambers and rest while we discuss this." Robb turned to his uncle Blackfish to give a list of the men he wanted to discuss this with when he realized Clegane hadn't moved. "Was there something else you wanted to tell us?" 

"It has more to do with old Nan your majesty but I do need to talk to you about your sister's condition." Robb's face went white he had heard the story about her being beaten at court and stripped to send him a message, he had burnt the message and told no one, his mother didn't need to read that slimy little creep Joffrey’s gleeful letter about his guards beating and stripping her or that she'd begged for her life and called him a traitor. It was too horrible to think about and he knew that the letter was only written so he would head south to King's Landing which he hadn't a hope of taking. If the hound had deflowered her he wouldn't have delivered her back to her family he would have kept her or slit her throat and left her somewhere while he escaped across the narrow sea or joined the Lannister forces again. Robb took a deep breath and tried to compose himself as he sent Roose Bolton, Karstark, Great Jon and the others from the room, his uncles he kept as Edmure had returned earlier, this was a time for family. 

"Your majesty people listen at doors." A bit affronted by this statement the Blackfish checked the hallway and came back to the table a look of concern in his face. "You cannot trust the Boltons your majesty, in my saddle bag you will find a vellum contract granting Riverrun and the surrounding Lands to the Freys and a contract making Roose Bolton warden of the north in exchange for killing you, there is a detailed plan of how they will execute you, your wife and your mother at the wedding at the twins by plying your men with free flowing drink paid for with the gold in the red bags, the rest of the gold is mine form tourneys and such. The Lannister man I told you I met was the messenger, he did not know I was no longer a Lannister man, Sansa's hair was black and he did not know her. I came upon the messenger and his party four days ago, he's dead and we found the messages going through his bags." Robb and his uncles silently go through the bags, there was gold, a king's ransom worth which he put back but the paper, the incriminating paper was worth far more to him and the other bags of gold are in rich, red leather. 

"I'm going to have Roose Bolton's head on a spike. If I believe this." He looked up then at Clegane to see if there was some deceit in the man but he could not tell. 

"This needs thinking about your grace" The Blackfish was staring at the Hound as Edmure stared horrified at the documents which said in detail how they wanted Robb Stark's head brought south for proof that their plans had been carried out while they could do as they wished with the remains of his mother and how they should keep Edmure Tully alive so they could have rule over Riverrun. The whole thing turned their stomachs. 

"I want their heads!" Edmure nearly shouts. 

"But you need their men!" The Blackfish cautions. "We need to confirm this and deal with it properly, even if we killed Frey and took the Twins we would need his men and we need the Bolton men too for Lannisport" He glanced then at Clegane and seemed to come to a decision. "I recommend putting trusted northern Guards on Clegane to ensure we don't lose any important information." The Blackfish said, Robb looked at the Hound then as if he had forgotten him. 

"Yes, yes and what about my sister you said. . . . " 

"Nothing really I just wanted to talk to you without prying ears, I am serious about the fire though, getting her here was a living nightmare; I can finally rest." he sighed wearily and Robb wondered again if the man was sound in his mind. “She came up with a plan for taking care of the Boltons and Freys, she’s been thinking on it for a while so I would wait and talk to her if you can, she would be upset if you didn’t let her handle them herself, carry on like normal and when she wakes up talk to her then. Pretend you don't know about this, pretend your going too the Twins and you look forward to it. She has a Plan.”


	4. A Night at Riverrun

**Catelyn**

She had never appreciated her good daughter as she did now, as soon as Talisa knew who Sansa was she started treating her burns with rare and expensive oils, mostly lavender in the hopes that they wouldn't scar, they cut off the rest of Sansa's clothes which were pretty much rags and Talisa was such a supportive, strong presence to her as she beheld the state of her little girl's body. In some ways Sansa's body had matured and filled out; her hips wider and her breasts fuller but her ribs poked through and her whole body was dangerously skeletal, had she eaten at all in King's Landing? Her hands had calluses and blisters on them from riding a horse she supposed but the burns were there too. Her legs were the worst, Catelyn nearly broke down at this point but Talisa patted her shoulder and said.

"It happens when people not used to riding horses ride them without resting, it's nothing to worry about." The skin on her inner thighs had been almost completely rubbed away and there were blisters new and old forming.

"Will she scar?"

"Yes, I'll use ointments to stop the worst of it but she will have marks from the saddle for life." The marks wouldn't be so bad if she had rested regularly but the poor girl had rubbed all of the skin on her inner thighs away then they had blistered and instead of resting she had gotten on the horse again and rubbed the blisters away too so now her legs had painful red, raised sores where the saddle had been under her. Catelyn wanted to weep for her marked skin but Talisa encouraged her to keep cleaning the girl as she treated the sores. Her clothes stank and it seemed that she hadn't washed properly in weeks, her leg with the bite was still strapped up so they removed her boots last, careful not to disturb the bandaged leg and found two dirty feet with a bit of foot fungus and a few blisters but nothing they couldn't fix. Every now and then she would mumble something in her sleep or a little whimper would escape her lips sometimes it sounded like a growl. After an hour of cleaning and bandaging her they put a clean white night shift on her and using a special sort of basin put the still sleeping Sansa's head in it where they rinsed out the fleas, lice, dirt and dye that had accumulated there. Her poor daughter, her poor sweet little lady, what had they done to her? There were two streaks of white at the front of her head, contrasting strangely with the deep red of the rest of her hair.

She sat next to her daughter's bed and held her hand as Talisa finished tending the wounds, Catelyn sat to her left side so she could hold her hand, how Sansa had broken her fingers was another mystery, like the scars on the backs of her legs that looked months old, like the scars on her breast and shoulder that looked like fingernails. She wanted to sit by her daughter and comfort her and never let her out of her sight, while at the same time she wanted to rage and attack that hideous man and make him suffer as much as her little girl had suffered she knew his reputation and had seen the devastation his brother had brought upon her beloved Riverlands, what had this monster done with her sweet girl while they were alone and she was defenceless on the long journey between King's landing and here? Grey Wind jumped up on the bed next to Sansa as soon as Talisa had stepped away and although both the women tried to move him he would not leave his charge. Painfully reminded of another bed, with another sleeping broken body in it Cat allows the wolf to stay and takes up the prayer wheel, she must finish the one she had been making for Sansa's and Arya's safe return before she begins the new one for Sansa's recovery. Pointless as it seems now, The Hound had seemed genuine when he said Arya was missing, why hadn't Petyr told her, he looked her in the face- or maybe he didn't maybe he saw her grief and had been unable to give her another shattering blow, looking back now she remembers that he did not volunteer information about Arya the way he did about Sansa. She had raged at him for not protecting Ned but these Lannisters. . .  maybe there had genuinely been nothing he could have done without getting himself killed too and then where would they be?

"Talisa can you tell if she needs moon tea?" It is only nine words but it holds the weight of several unanswered questions, each more awful than the last.

"No obvious signs." Talisa tries to delicately answer. "It is best that I ask her about it when she wakes up, the dose needs to be just right to avoid lasting damage and a day or two will make no difference." Her good mother nods and tries to hold back her tears.

"Will you see to it if she does need-will you make it better, help her, discreetly."

"I will do everything I can for her as if she was my own sister." Talisa answers honestly and the two women share a rare moment of companionship.

 

**Sansa**

Sansa dreams. She dreams of Ice and Fire. She dreams of Sandor and Grey Wind of Hounds and Wolves. She dreams of desert expanding in every direction around her as far as the eye can see, ruins of ancient buildings sticking up in the landscape like the skeletal remains of some long dead civilisation. The snow drifts move in this desert and a pale rider on a pale horse approaches her, his crown made of ice and it twinkles and shines like diamonds from the light that seems to come off the desert of snow, his face is motionless; he is a corpse and not a corpse, he is ice but he is not frozen. He reaches for her-

_On Sansa's bed Grey Wind stands up and howls, he howls and howls until Cat thinks she will go deaf and she tries to shush the big ugly brute before he wakes Sansa from her much needed slumber. Finally Robb comes and tries to pull the wolf away but he growls at him, for the first time since he got his direwolf it is disobeying him and growling at him. It then leans down and licks the sleeping girl's face as more howls from more wolves are heard outside the Keep._

**Nymeria/Sansa**

She is her beautiful self now, she is safe with the wolves, she had nearly been lost there but her beloved wolves had found her again, there was pain in the other body, weariness and she knows she must go back to it, people need her as her pack needs her. Here she has four paws and she is strong, she was named Nymeria and she is alpha to all these wolves, hundreds of them. She had another two leg who was pack; always dirty and true to her beautiful self, this two leg had always covered her beautiful self with fowl scents and strange words as if she blocked what she truly was from the world. When they had met again she barely recognised this two leg, she was in her own beautiful self; the dirt the sweat all the things that made her _her._ She always felt it when the two legs visit her in her head, if they do it for too long her head hurts but an evening's hunt is fine, she and the two leg do not know if they are one or two as they run through the trees of the forest but she hears her brother's call and answers him, he is protecting the two leg's other body, that is good, The Hound protects it usually. The Hound, he is pack, like her wolves are pack, she will return to her broken body for him if for nothing else.

**Riverrun**

Sansa now sleeps peacefully again and Grey Wind lies peacefully next to her, Cat and Robb argue in hushed tones at the other side of the room. She refuses to let her newly returned daughter be eaten by a monster. He argues that Grey Wind would never harm her and what ever the reason for his behaviour it was a one off. She argues that once an animal has eaten human flesh it always wants more, that the animal is dangerous and he is fooling himself, he needs to get it out of this room and away from her daughter.

 

In Hoster Tully's room the master sadly puts the lifeless hand back on the bed sheet as the eighty year old servant wipes tears from his eyes at the confirmation that his Lord is dead, he is inconsolable with grief so the maester leaves him to tell the new lord of Riverrun himself. A sad day for such an old family that they are reunited with their lost niece the same day they lose their liege lord. He finds Edmure Tully and informs him only to see the young man's eyes fill with grief and tears, he hopes the new lord has gone to see his Father's remains but is pretty sure he has really gone to see his mistress. He then continues on to Lady Sansa's room, he disapproved of allowing the foreign woman with her exotic oils be the one to see to the young Princess' needs, it should be he as he is an old retainer to the Tully house. He finds the King and his Mother in the room while the huge wolf lies on the bed with the princess.

"Your majesty, my Lady I regret to inform you that your father has passed on from this world and his suffering is at an end." Lady Catelyn puts her hand to her mouth and weeps silent teas before turning to her son and demanding that he take the wolf away with him, he promises to tend the Princess Sansa while they go to inform the bannermen.

When they have left he shakes his head at the incompetence of the Riverrun staff and lights a few candles to give him light as he lights a fire, the poor girl will catch her chill in a room this cold he is surprised Lady Catelyn allowed it.


	5. Sandor Muses on their Trip

Sandor lay in the bare small room, 6 ft by 4 ft, the bed wasn't long enough for him to stretch out on and neither was the room. He should sleep, they had locked him into the room and he could hear the two sentries outside the door grumbling about having to guard him. Bolton had cold dead eyes, a shrewd sly man if ever there was one and Sandor had no problem believing the story Sansa had told him about the hidden room in the dread fort filled with the skins of people he had flayed. Bolton had asked him a few questions as he was brought to this room, he answered honestly about King's Landing being taken, about Stannis killing Joff and Tommen, he repeated it all later in the King's solar but Bolton already knew all the bits he had wanted to know. It made no difference, Sansa had a plan for dealing with the traitorous shit and it was a good plan, he believed in her, he hoped her brother did. When did that happen, when had he gone from feeling contempt for her foolishness, to feeling pity for her situation, feeling lust for her to respecting her? He supposed it happened that night she demanded he wield her father's sword or was it that day she tried to kill Joffrey? She would have killed herself too and been glad of the sacrifice but he stopped her, at the time he had thought that things couldn't get worse for her and that her brother really would come and save her. King Robb showed his real colours though, had the Kingslayer as hostage for a year and still wouldn't trade him for her. Many times Sandor had brooded over his decision to stop her that day, many beatings wouldn't have been brought upon her if she had thrown them both over the edge but then he was already beginning to care for her. He wondered if it had happened at Winterfell when he saw her sneaking food from her plate to the wolf under her table, the wolf’s teeth never hurting her delicate lady’s hands. He had known the minute he saw the woves that these were not a wolf hound breed and nor were they fully grown wolves, they were still pups which said a lot about the size they would grow to.

On the king’s road he had tried to talk to her, seen her leading the wolf around with a homemade collar of ribbons, it was ridiculous and fascinating at the same time but Joff had interrupted and he never got a chance to ask what as the grandson of a kennel master he was dying to ask. In a way he hated Ned stark for hurting that wolf, not just for the way it made her cry, not just because it was a magnificent beast; impeccably well trained but because of the logic the man had put into this deed. That wolf had never been at the water with the children when it all happened. Anyone who heard the story knew it was all a pack of lies on Joff’s part, the older girl too intimidated by her future good family to tell the truth of what happened but too honest in her heart to back up his lie, her little sister too tired, angry, hungry and young to put into words what she had truly seen. What had Lord Stark's men been doing when they let his two daughters wander off alone in a camp of foreign soldiers, what had Lord stark been thinking? He was there Father he should have protected them, their wolves protected them though and one got chased off for it while the other got her throat cut for it. What also really irked him was Lord Stark’s insistence that he kill the wolf himself because it was more honourable somehow to kill a chained up wolf that had never hurt anyone while your men comfort and restrain your daughter as you do it. He genuinely believed there was honour in obeying stupid King Robert’s sentence but then he looked down on, all the Stark men looked down on Sandor for killing the butcher’s boy, the boy who was accused of striking the crown prince, he saw the contempt in the Stark men’s eyes over this and it had turned his stomach, like they were so much better than him.

He saw a light go out of Sansa that day, she would push her food around her plate and eat like a little bird, the barest amount to survive. She tried so hard to obey the lessons her Septa had taught her, tried so hard to make people with no love in their heart love her and even though she knew they never did she kept trying. There were other times that Stark showed his incredibly bad parenting skills when he let that creep Baelish sit with her at the tourney, whispering into her ear, that incompetent Septa let him drool all over her and seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he was coveting her. He let her alone a lot of the time and seemed oblivious to the fact that all the ladies in king’s Landing hated her because she would one day be Queen, a position they felt she neither deserved nor earned, they pretended to be her friends; the false, unhelpful friends that later turned away in contempt from her when her father was killed and looked on with glee as she was beaten. She had this idea that she could make Joff love her, no one had ever told her, she had never met anyone who simply didn’t have a heart and therefore couldn’t love. That night he had escorted her home from the tourney, it was his night off and he was half drunk but he had seen her at the tourney grounds, all available stark men were now assisting the city watch and there was just her Septa to get her home. There were a lot of knights who might take advantage of something like that so he had stuck around to make sure she got back to the tower of the hand alright. Other highborns do not try to make polite conversation with the help but she did, another example of why she did not belong in King’s Landing, when he had told her that story, he had never told anyone that story why her? He was drunk and it had been at the forefront of his mind all day; Gregor’s mere presence had seen to that. Maybe hearing her speak about the knights made him do it, she hadn’t expected the violence of the tourney, hadn’t expected the cold hearted cruelty of it, he wanted her to understand and understand fast that these people were sharks who ate little trout like her for breakfast, she understood but didn’t believe, she thought Gregor was the exception not the rule, if he had had the words he could have explained it better; made her see but he didn’t and she didn’t.

He did not understand Eddard Stark, he saw and heard enough to know he had warned Cersei before trying to out her affair, he actually approached the lioness and encouraged her to take her children and run before he told Robert. Then Robert conveniently died from that hunt and still, still he had kept his daughters in King’s Landing he tried to pack his whole household away and send them North but of course every chamber maid in the keep knew about a huge household move like that within the hour, he should have just gotten his daughters out. It was Tywin who ordered the Targareon babes killed, Tywin who wrapped them in his house colours all so he could put his future grand son on the throne and Eddard Stark thought Tywin’s daughter would just hand it all back? He thought Cersei would just let Ned's daughters go? The only time he ever had any respect for Eddard Stark was when he threw his hand of the king badge in Robert’s face because of the plot to kill the Targareon girl, of course that only lasted about half a day and then he went to a brothel and injured his leg, got half a dozen of his men killed yet still he kept those girls in king’s Landing.

His blood boiled every time he thought of the honourable Eddard Stark, he put his loyalty to his old drinking buddy above the safety of his girls and despite the abduction of his sister twenty years ago he still seemed completely oblivious to the danger those girls were in. 

Then there was Sansa, poor, sweet, innocent girl. She was so devoid of any type of malice or manipulation that she was completely blind to it in others, she didn’t even know what it was to lie, not really. She had believed in them, believed in their beauty meaning they were good right up to the point they cut off her Father’s head, when he dabbed the blood off her lip that day he saw that she was finally beginning to understand, they were all liars,wearing masks and she needed to make a better one or Joffrey would hurt her. She had become stronger these last few years, still didn’t eat enough for his liking but she had learned more about survival. When she told him why she had broken her fingers he wanted to rage at her. Why had she been willing to suffer and risk so much for a brother who did not suffer or risk anything for her? He cared more for his crown and his kingdom than her, the Lannister man they had killed had told them why the alliance with the Frey’s had fallen apart. Turns out King Robb also cared more for his foreign lady’s honour than he did for his sister’s; unwilling to keep her as only his mistress after he had deflowered her. Apparently the way every other King in the history of the world had behaved since the beginning of time wasn’t good enough for the King of the North. Sansa hadn’t spoken for two hours after hearing about it which was a record for her.

What got him, what really made him wonder what was wrong with the girl was the way she had insisted that they make straight for Riverrun and save him, three days she had pushed him, not to rest, not to sleep, they killed two horses by pushing them too hard but she was insistent. Her idiot brother and his self proclaimed kingdom had to be saved. They never did half so much for her as she had done these last three days trying to reach them. He only hoped that they listened, he had given them a short outline of the plan so they understood the need to act cautiously and to keep up a pretence around the Boltons and the Freys. They were hotblooded though and would likely let slip the truth in their anger or make Bolton suspicious with their attitude toward him. . . Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything, maybe he should have waited until she woke up but he knew the way these noble’s heads worked, knew they likey would have had Bolton men guarding her room and that had made him very nervous. Just like the Bolton men outside his door made him nervous. 

He did not light the fire in his room, but he did use a small piece of kindling that was cut at an angle under the door. There was a metal lock outside the door so anyone could come in at any time, this was an old trick which guaranteed that when the door did open it would get caught on this makeshift door wedge and the outsiders would not be able to get more than toe in the door, the darkness of the room also meant Sandor would see them before their eyes adjusted properly. They had disarmed him but had failed to get everything, two men had had to carry away the weapons he had been carrying and although they got the shiv in his right boot they failed to find the second one in his heel. He would not do anything with it unless they tried something first, too many years of living in the Red Keep had taught him that. He lay on the bed and tried arrange the covers so he was a s warm as possible, they relly had not provided him with enough furs. Sleeping with her had always been warm, she sometimes slept with her head on his chest, sometimes with her back to him and her pert little bottom pressed up against his crotch, all the time their arms around each other, all the time their legs tangled together. 

The first night they had spent like this was when the ship, as they generously called the little vessel, caught fire on the second night of their voyage out of King's Landing, he had been in the cargo hold which was also their bedroom with Stranger when it started, all of the oil lamps suddenly flashed dark red and the flames went higher and the ship was suddenly being consumed by flames, there were water buckets and sand buckets, he had grabbed her and she in her quick thinking grabbed the saddle bags and they carefully led Stranger out onto the deck, they thought that being out of the flaming cargo hold would save them, they were surrounded by water, how could the ship burn? Apparently very well, the floor got hotter and it burned in the dry inside, all the tar and preservatives in the wood making it burn hotter. The captain aimed them for the shore, willing to risk running ashore, they were just on the edge of the Claw but the ship wouldn’t make it, they jumped onto the tiny lifeboat and Stranger, poor horse ended up in the water, the life vessel turned out not to be very well made as it fell apart within the hour, Sandor tied a cord around his and Sansa waists so they wouldn't be separated, Stranger kicked and tried to swim next to them, but they were taking on so much water and going so slowly that he took off by himself, instinctively knowing where land was. Drowning men grab anything they can to stay afloat and they had held on to the bits of floating debris from the ship and kicked their legs for what felt like hours until they reached the shore. Exhausted, wet and freezing he and Sansa finally reached the rocky bay, it had been so dark that they had had to use the stars to tell them which way was West. She had been so strong, she kept going the whole way, sometimes she sang under her breath so soft you couldn’t hear it to keep her mind off the cold and fatigue. When they washed ashore he knew they could not rest, there is a horrible ache in all of your extremities when they are as cold as they were now and theirs were so cold, he dragged and pulled her by the arm up the beach until he found a sort of cave, more a wall with an overhang but it would give them some protection. The area was too wet from rain and it was too dark for finding firewood so he took her to that cave and stripped her out of her soaking wet wool dress so she only wore under clothes; stripping his own too and they lay together and he covered them with sand and his leather tunic after shaking the worst of the water off it. It was the only thing he could think of to keep them warm, he blew on her toes and her fingers as well as his own as they huddled together trying to warm themselves, rubbing each other to get some warmth and to get their blood going. 

He had promised Davos he would not molest her and he did not. Even men with a strong sex drive like him would find it nigh impossible to get hard when they are so cold they risk frost bite and have been swimming for two hours, he told her they had to stay awake otherwise they may not wake up in the morning so she sang to him and he told her stories of his childhood when he had been happy before he was burnt. Sometimes he put her tiny fingers in his mouth just to keep them warm, the thought of having to cut them off due to frost bite terrifying him. She did the same and put his in her mouth, it would have been arousing under other cicumstances, she had talked and sang till she was hoarse and kept rubbing his nose and ear, she told him stories about people loosing noses and ears in extreme cold in the north so when she started kissing his nose he understood it, she kissed and rubbed her face across his stubbly cheek to his ear and took it in her mouth too, warming it and licking it, they didn’t kiss on the lips so much as rub their face against eachother as her hands explored under their makeshift blanket;wrapping around him and caressing his hairy chest. 

After an hour of this he felt the risk of freezing to death was replaced by the risk of him taking her right there on the beach, his cock twitching at her caresses which were passionate and affectionate. He did not think that she would ever do this normally or that she wouldn’t regret it come the cold harsh light of dawn so he barely allowed himself to enjoy it at the time. Now alone in his 6 by 4 room in Riverrun he allowed himself the freedom to think of it openly and unlaced his breeches with a sigh of relief.

When the pale light of dawn arrived on that beach they were both still cold and their muscles ached from the exercion. He probably ached more than her as he had spent more than a week chained to a wall, only able to eat the flimsy rations of food she had managed to sneak down to him. They found a lot had washed ashore from their wreck and others, there were a few dead bodies from the battle of the blackwater, he left her Father’s sword, which had been strapped to his back during the entire swim, near their cave and searched the bodies while she looked for other useful things, their saddlebags they had managed to save though the contents were pretty saturated, she hung them up in the vain hope that the wind woud dry them, she found a small barrel of peach brandy that they warmed themselves and broke their fast on as well as several pieces of driftwood that she brought back to their camp in the hopes that they could dry them for a fire. He had only his leather armour and her Father's sword, his other weapons and clothes lost with the ship. If they had the luxury of being able to stay there a few days then they could have replenished themselves on the barrels of food and wine that washed ashore but the Baratheons would be after them, might see the signs of the ship wreck or see any fire they built, Lannister and Tyrell scouts might come this way too, he had no idea where they were, it was too foggy to see any trustworthy landmarks, not that he would really know them if he did. 

Sansa called his attention to them first; she ran over to him and said there was a little old man watching them from the bushes with a dog. The man came out of hiding then, he was stooped so much that his back seemed to be very bent, he was about 4 ft tall but he looked like he could be nearly 5 1/2 ft if he just straightened his back. He came over to them nodding and smiling a toothless grin, he pointed at the driftwood and pointed further along the beech then motioned them to follow. 

Just inside the woodland that came onto the beach was his little driftwood cottage, it was the oddest place full of silks and meerish glass while its walls were made of driftwood and mud, he had a little cart, also made of driftwood which he collected driftwood and insundry items in then he laid the driftwood in a lean-to area next to the cottage which was made of driftwood. There was a harness on the cart that his dog pulled the driftwood along in. The first thing he did when he brought them to the cottage was point to the fire and the stew pot over it then motioned around to the chests and barrels and reached for Sansa, Sandor stood in front of her defensively but he lifted the sleeve of his coat and through mime seemed to be telling them to change from their wet clothes and get warm, he spread his arms to show they could take what they needed. He had chests full of different things, summer clothes from across the narrow sea but also warm clothes that could only come from the north, the little hermit must have been collecting flotsam and jetsam for years. They changed into whatever mismatched items they could find and Sandor encouraged Sansa to discard her heavy wool dress and wear the squire’s breeches that they found. She went for a compromise of breeches with a loose wool skirt over them and they wrapped themselves in sheep’s wool, litteral sheep's wool that had been cut off a sheep but never spun or refined. They settled down with their little bowls of stew. The bowls had tagareon sigils on them and had a few cracks but were part of a larger dinner service in the chest they sat on, the man came back a few hours later with his little cart and his fluffy dog to find them dozing by the fire. He smiled and nodded and started to make more stew for their dinner. 

Through mime over the day Sansa learnt that the man had had his tongue cut out, he pointed to the tea set so she guessed it was King Aerys II and he bobbed his head “yes”. He was a sailor of some sort and his ship went down, he washed ashore here and was found by another man who owned the cottage, years later the man had died and he had stayed, he brought his cart to the shore every day for flotsam and jetsam and now he had a huge collection of exotic and sundry items. He showed a map to the nearest village where he seemed to go semi regularly to sell his finds, sometimes he only sold seaweed to the local farmers which produced wonderful crops.

Sansa had seen this practice in Whiteharbour and told them about it, she remembered Arya running down to the beach and asking the farmers about it and insisting that they learn all about it, each farmer owned the rights to the seaweed on different parts of the beach, the seaweed that washed up on these rocks were theirs and they collected it after hightides before putting it down as fertiliser for a new crop in their field. The smell was awful but at the same time salty and fresh, the farmers said it showed in the quality of their produce compared to farmers produce inland, thus the seaport of whiteharbour was not just prosperous because of fish and trade from the sea but also from produce the land gave them because of the sea. She told them all about the visit and got sad at the memory of Arya walking up to common folk and talking to them as if they were her equals while father encouraged her, Septa Mordane had had a headache that day so she wasn’t there to reprimand Arya. Father had encouraged them both so that they had all had a lovely day talking with the farmers, collecting seaweed with the special farmer’s tools and they had been happy, her eyes teared a little at the memory. She admitted that she didn’t have many that were exclusively her and her Father, he had never smiled at her the way he smiled at Arya but that was ok because her mother never smiled at Arya the way she smiled at her, Sandor did not point out that statement was a lie. Sansa went quiet at the memory and the two men went outside to work.

The man brought Sandor to where a very cold, ill tempered Stranger was munching on some grass at the other end of the beach, he wiped him down and tended him while the man collected more things with his little cart, this seemed to be a regular thing for him, finding shipwreck victims washed ashore as well as dead bodies, he moved the bodies to another end of the beach and started digging one big grave for them. Sandor saw the sense in this, can’t have dead bodies stinking up his backyard and the way the current was they would probably just wash ashore again so he finished tending Stranger and helped, it was a good way to stretch and loosen his seized muscles. The man had several maps that showed they were somewhere on the south east side of Crack Claw Point and East of them was the Claw Isle, he didn’t know which beach exactly but it probably wasn’t big enough to appear on any of his maps. They decided to stay there the night and Sandor rubbed Stranger down with special sheep liniment (washed ashore at some point and kept by the man until it was useful) and cared for him in the hopes he would be well enough to take them away in the morning. They decided to set off in the morning, Sansa tried to tell the man about the war and what was happening but he shook his head, he did not want to know what was happening in the Seven Kingdoms, he had his little cottage and was happy and content. They nodded agreement and had their evening stew. Sansa had a screaming fit that night not long after sunset, screaming she was on fire, he had run to her bed in the cottage expecting to find an attacker but only found her alone and apparently unharmed. When it stopped about fifteen minutes later she sobbed and cried, he thought maybe it was some sort of night terror. It wasn’t.

When they had all calmed down the dog got into the bed with Sansa and Sandor lay next to her, she seemed unwilling for him to move so it seemed they would warm each other again. The chill of the water was still in them and they still felt cold even after the day of recovery. The dog alerted them first, he got up and started barking; ran to the door and the shutters barking and growling, Sandor took the sword and made ready, he faced the door waiting for the attack but the they came through the walls instead, Sansa hid in a dark corner while the two men fought, the great sword was not made for use in a confined space like that but all it took was a nick and they went down. There were eight of them, Sansa and the dog killed one together, he pounced on it and pinned it with his body while she hit it with bronze statue of some scantily clad Essos Goddess. Apparently severely damaging the brain worked on Reds as well. The little old man gasped for a while after the attack and gripped at his chest, he gasped for a few hours before his heart gave out and he died too, Sandor gave him a small nick with the sword just to be sure and they packed up their things. He dragged the corpses back to the grave, adding the old man to it and went back to the cottage, unwilling to leave the little bird for long, she had a burn on her arm from where one had grabbed her and held on. She had another screaming fit that night, he picked her up and carried her into the freezing sea but she still screamed that she burned, when it was over they went back inside, dried off, changed into dry clothes and held each other under the bed covers again.

The next day they took their newly packed saddle bags, their mostly healthy warhorse, their new canine friend and carefully closing the cottage door behind them continued for Riverrun. She did not weep as much as he thought she would she just said that she hoped the next shipwreck victims found the little cottage on their own and found happiness there, he grunted assent.


	6. A flashback to their journey to Riverrun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hound and Sansa discuss the past two years

Chapter 6

The next day they walked North planning to reach a small harbour so they could hire a boat to take them from Claw Bay to the Red Fork and Riverrun, the bigger ships would be used in the war effort but all they needed was a small fishing or trading vessel, he could even leave Stranger behind if necessity demanded it. Sandor still carried the Valerian sword and had a bit of undersized chainmail under his boiled leather armour, he also took a bow with a quiver of arrows and a few daggers from the old man’s hut, he wouldn’t be useless in a fight but he wished he had a shorter sword for general use and the chainmail only covered his front and back, he had to leave it open at the sides. He had an idea that Sansa could wear the daggers and showed her how a wrist sheath should work, she was happy with the idea, she had found several sewing materials in the hut and was going to spend the evenings making the sheaths with some silk she had brought from the cottage. The Hound smiled at the idea that as bad as things were; she could still be cheered up by the idea of a sewing project.

Sansa had a list, the Hound discovered the third day of their journey together, it was a list of people she said in her prayers every day. It was a list of all the people who had died or suffered because of her, it included all of her father’s men who had died in King’s Landing, her little sister Arya who may or may not be alive, the butcher’s boy; Micah and her friend Jeyne who she had not seen since Baelish had made her his ward. She knew what sort of businesses Baelish ran in the city, she had quietly been listening for two years and knew that her friend was living in her own personal hell wherever she was if she was still alive.

“There are places in the gardens of the Red Keep where I could sit and go a whole afternoon without being noticed and I’d pick up bits of gossip here and there. Also in court I’d hear bits of conversation and I heard about Baelish’s girls being abused by Joffrey, there was no one I could really ask but my maid Shae. She told me not to trust her but I figured I could half trust her if you see my meaning? She told me about what Joffrey did to those girls and that Baelish ran most of the brothels in Flea Bottom and that’s how he could afford all of his fashionable velvet coats, I always felt dirty after talking to him. He was always looking at me in a way I didn’t like.” There was a strange freedom to being under the open blue sky with the Hound and only the Hound, with no risk of their talk getting back to Joffrey or Cersei and leading to more punishment.

“Aye, Littlefucker is one of the worst in King’s Landing.” Sansa gasped at the altered nickname and then giggled nervously, they were walking beside Stranger along a simple path through fields of wheat and turnips, there was a strange peacefulness to miles and miles of fields that slowly and quietly grow their crops with no violence or bloodshed. They only stopped during the day for a snack and to water Stranger. Sansa fiddled with her hands for a while before asking him a question she had been dying to ask for nearly two years.

“What happened? I’ve deduced bits and pieces from conversations I’ve half over heard and looks people have given when things are said but I don’t really know what happened, Father didn’t tell me anything before he was arrested and he spent a lot of time with Baelish before that so. . .what happened with him and . . .everything?”

Sandor rubbed his face and thought of the day he cut down Stark men in the throne room, he remembered going to the tower of the hand and cutting down more. He grabbed that silly girl, the one he had seen giggling at Winterfell who always blanched at the sight of his face and locked her in a room with the little bird.

“It’s not a pleasant story little bird.”

“I’ve been living it for two years, I know what it is but I _need_ to know all of it, for a while I thought it was my fault, Father had wanted to leave King’s Landing, I argued that we couldn’t leave. I tried to convince Father that I was just beginning to make Joffrey fall in love with me, he had given me a gaudy gold pendant to make up for the months he had been sneering at me and refusing to look or talk to me and I thought that the gift meant we would be happily married one day.” Sandor scoffed at that. “You don’t know what it was like!” she accused, “My mother just kept telling me that love grows, that after marriage love would happen, I thought since Joffrey and I had a chance to get to know each other before our marriage that that’s what would happen. That day at the Crossroads. . .it had all gone so wrong, he had a skin of wine with him and kept making me drink even when I kept telling him I did not want to but I tried to be polite, I wanted him to like me so much.” Tears are flowing down her face now. “My mother was well educated and made sure we all were too but that afternoon I realised just how clever I was compared to Joffrey, he barely knew anything about the geography of the Riverlands; he thought the Blue Fork flowed into the Red Fork instead of the Green Fork and when I corrected him he was so annoyed so I didn’t disagree with anything else he said. I tried to convince myself that as a boy he would have a different education to me and he probably knew as much about his mother’s home of Casterly Rock as I knew of my mother’s. I knew he was the sort of person who wanted to be right even when he wasn’t and I hoped he would mature before we wed, then I started getting a headache from all the wine, I tried to only pretend I was taking sips but he insisted and then we met Arya and Micah.” She paused here wiping at her eyes as for the first time she was free to tell someone the truth of that day. “I called to her and when she wasn’t looking the boy hit her with his stick making her cry, I think in some way Joffrey thought he was protecting her, defending her only he wanted to cause pain not defend her. I should have seen him for what he was then but my head ached and it was so bright and then the boy was running away and Joffrey was holding his hand where Arya had struck and he was saying he would gut her and calling her a bad word. Nymeria was a good protector; she bit the boy who was swinging a sword at her mistress, I was glad Arya was quick thinking enough to run away with her, I was glad she was saved for Arya’s sake.” Sandor wasn’t surprised at the events but it saddened him a bit, he should have gone with them that day, he saw Joff leading her off but thought other guards were on duty with Joff that afternoon.

“Joff had it planned, he knew I would have followed, he made it seem like someone else was guarding ye, I never would have let you go anywhere alone with him if I had known, he wanted to get you alone and that bit about the wine has me glad you came across your sister and the boy.” There was a pensive pause after that as they continued making their way over the uneven path.

“When they brought me into that room and everyone was staring at me and Joffrey told a pack of lies about Arya and the boy attacking him with clubs; they were sticks not clubs; sapling sticks. I did not know what to say, he was the Prince! He would be my husband one day, I just did not want us to start off on the wrong foot. I wished I could talk to my Father in private but they put me on the spot and I panicked, I wished I could explain to him but he followed the King’s orders and killed Lady.” Unshed tears glistened in her eyes now, “I did not speak a kind word to him from that day to the day he died, he would not even look at me that day on the dais, I tried to smile to him to speak but he wouldn’t even look at me.” Now the tears really did flow freely, The Hound shifted uncomfortably, he supposed this was like snake venom, the poison of the last two years was in her wounded soul and she had to cast it out before she could heal.

“Stop that now.” He said not unkindly, “He killed your _wolf_ anyone who’s ever had a pet would understand why you were upset, I-” He was about to tell her of the puppy he had owned that Gregor had drowned but decided not to darken the mood anymore. “You spoke to him at the Tourney of the Hand, I saw you gripping his arm and he hugged you, you got on well then.”

In a delicate and somehow ladylike way she wiped her nose with her handkerchief and gave a weak little smile; “You saw that? I remember, your-Gregor was riding and I was afraid he would kill Ser Loras the same way he killed that other knight the day before, I had never seen anyone killed like that and the thoughts of it happening again made me sick, it was the first time my father ever really lied to me.” The Hound cocked his head and started; “He told me not to worry, that Gregor wouldn’t kill him, it was such a silly lie, he knew Gregor killed that other knight the day before just because he could, he had no way of knowing he wouldn’t Ser Loras.”

“Aye but that other knight did not have a powerful family backing him, do you think Jamie Lannister would win half the jousts he does if his Father was not Highlord of Casterly Rock? I’ve ridden against him and I’ve tried to beat him but I have always been very nervous of killing or maiming him like Willas Tyrell. Tyrell can’t walk properly anymore from breaking his legs in a joust gone wrong.” Sansa thought about this for a while.

“But Ser Gregor did try to kill Ser Loras, what repercussions would there have been if he had succeeded.”

“I don’t know; he is Tywin’s favourite pet, he raped and killed a Princess and got away with it, the Dornish are too afraid of Tywin’s wrath to seek vengeance for that. Ser Loras entered the Tourney knowing the risks, they call his Grandmother Lady Thorn in some circles; she maybe would have tried to seek vengeance, his real problem would have been Renly; you know they were fucking?” Sansa gasped at the coarseness of his words and simultaneously stopped crying which was a relief to the Hound.

“How could they be they were both men! Although that does explain a few comments I heard about the two of them; some joke about them jousting that I never really understood that I heard a few people tell but surely. . .” Sandor chortled at this, she was still so innocent in some things. “They cannot have been, men cannot. . .with other men.”

“Why do you think so many knights have squires?” She stared at him in shock.

“There aren’t always women with a camp, soldiers on campaign spend months and months with no women, squires that are fair of face are very sought after for lonely nights on campaign.” Her face really blanched now and she stopped on the track to stare at him.

“You’re joshing me again aren’t you?” Her voice was hopeful; she was so innocent still.

“It happens; some men like men more than women or when they’re on campaign instead of women, lot of septons and maesters are that way, celibacy is a great way to avoid unwanted relations with women.” Sansa stared at him with her mouth open.

“The King’s Guard are supposed to be celibate.”

“Aye.” He replied trying not to smile at her, she was so easy to tease and for the first time in three days she was thinking about something other than fire and death.

“Surely, you. . .you don’t. . .” He barked in laughter at that and several birds in the surrounding bushes took off.

“No, I’ve killed men for implying less than you just did little bird,” he chortled happily at a memory “when I first squired at Casterly Rock I heard horror stories from the other squires, there was a Lord who used to take the fairest of face for his squires but my ugly mug and my big physique saved me… other lads weren’t so lucky, on the way to King’s Landing I got pally with this boy I met, he was the first born son of a lord, younger than you were when you came to King’s Landing, didn’t want his reputation to be ruined by telling anyone about it but he knew a few people knew what was happening to him. We were drunk one night on a barrel of ale and making our way back to our lords’ tents. He spilled his woes to me; it was the first time _anyone_ had ever been envious of my ugly mug, but this boy was envious.” He wondered how much he should tell, she was a maid and had enough horror in her life already. “The boy said he wanted to kill himself he felt so dirty and it _hurt,_ I promised him we’d figure something out. The sacking of King’s Landing was pretty messy, lot of limbs went flying, I saw my chance and I grabbed it, stabbed the lord in the neck, no one was looking and no one ever knew.” He went silent at the memory and waited for her reaction.

“Did the squire ever know what you did for him?” The Hound cocked his head toward her.

“He never spoke to me again after that night we were drunk, not even when he was a lord with a wife and babes a decade later and I was shield to the Crown Prince and we crossed paths at Casterly Rock.”

“But you were his friend, you helped him.”

“I was only his friend that one week we were in the same camp together, I also knew the secret he would spend the rest of his life hiding from the world, he had nothing to fear from me but he was afraid the minute he saw me again, so I kept my distance, if I could hide the scars of the bad things done to me I would so, I can’t begrudge it in others.” They walked on in silence for a while.

“I don’t think Loras and Renly could have been doing that; they seemed too fond of each other, they could not have been hurting each other like that.” The Hound sighed, this was a really difficult conversation to have with a maid, a highborn one at that.

“This conversation never leaves this glen, okay? I’ll not have people saying I polluted your mind.” She nodded assent and he sighed; “Rape is rape and it is never pleasant for the victim whether they are a man or a woman. There. . .I’ve never been with a man, would never want to be,” she smiled at this, “but when I’m with a woman,” she seizes up now as they walk on and her face is bright red, “when a man’s cock is going in-”

“I think we should stop this conversation- it was wrong of me to start it. We should walk on.” Her face is bright red and she doesn’t look at him. After a time, he tries again.

“When you care about someone you don’t do anything that hurts them and you don’t do anything that they don’t want, that was the difference with Renly and Loras.”

They continued on a while lost in thought before Sansa spoke again. “I don’t know how we ended up talking about _that,”_ head down she picked her way over some uneven stones in the path. “But I think we were talking about my Father and why it all happened.” The Hound smiled at her delicate choice of words and told her everything from her Father warning Cersei of his intentions to Roberts _convenient_ accident to Baelish and Slynt’s betrayal. Sansa went very quiet afterward and he could almost see her mind working.

“My Father was an honourable man, I know he had faults, as we all do but I do not understand how he could have trusted a man like _Baelish._ ” She spat the word like it was dirty. “All I knew of him was that he had been fostered with my Mother’s family, my septa introduced him as an old friend of my Mother’s but my mother never mentioned him to me. _Why_ did Father trust him?”

He gave a long sigh before he spoke: “I don’t know, I know why Littlefucker did it, he fought a duel when he was a kid with your Uncle Brandon for your Mother’s hand, he was nearly killed and scarred for life. Could be killing your Father was the closest he could get to his vengeance. I heard tell that he whispers ‘Cat’ in his whore’s ears when he comes in them so he probably still carries a torch for her, maybe he hoped he’d have a chance with her if he killed your Father.” Sansa’s face has gone from anger to disbelief.

“Do you think she would?”

“If she didn’t know the truth of the betrayal maybe, but too many people know, I think. Littlefucker looked at you a lot, they say you’re the image of her when she was younger.” Sansa shuddered at this. “Maybe if your mother still carried a torch for him they’d wed, he’s told half of King’s Landing that he took both the Tully girl’s virginity.” Sansa is repressed fury at this stage.

“No! My Mother was too much of a Lady to do that I cannot believe that!” She was angry now and quickened her steps, desperate to get away from him and his awful truths.

He caught up with her a little while later as she gasped against a tree after running the whole way up a hill.

“He’s a boastful, flesh peddler, I wouldn’t believe a single word out of his mouth, I’m sure he only said that because he wished it was true, how on earth can your Mother disprove it? Even if she ever hears it?” It’s strange that this news is what causes her to break down in tears, they talked about executions, betrayals, loss and other horrors but this seems to hurt her more than all of it, or maybe it is just a combination of all of it. When she has calmed and is breathing regularly again he tells her the rest; Littlefucker’s not so secret affair with Lysa Tully which is the probable cause for the Vale staying out of the war. Then he takes her hands in his, they are so tiny, so fragile, he must tell her all now so she knows everything; Littlefuckers visit to Joff’s chambers, his honeyed words designed to manipulate Joff, his satisfied smile that day on the dais when everyone else was shocked by the Prince’s decision to execute Ned Stark. He held her in his arms for twenty minutes while she wailed and sobbed into his shoulder at these words, sometimes she beat him with her fists, other times she clung to him but all the time she wailed and sobbed and cried. When her hysterical fit of tears subsided her head was resting against his chest as he soothingly ran his fingers through her long hair; smoothing it down her back. He didn’t say anything but he held her like that for as long as she let him and like that night on the beach, when it was over neither of them spoke of it again.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Sansa dreams:

There is sea water flowing into Winterfell, up the walls, the residents try to hold the flow but she sees some of them consumed and drowned in it. She sees two wolves run from the rising floods following a black raven's wings, a woman runs with them holding a spear. She has had the dream before and she loves to see the little wolves as they chase the raven to the wall; high and solid, it has stood for eight thousand years, it must be torn down, she knows it must.

The dream is cut short by a dream that is not a dream, it is happening to her now, She is Ros, she was of the North, she has cords tying her to a stake behind her, she struggles with the bonds, they cut into her skin but she still struggles, she refuses to die peacefully.

"I'm not Lady Sansa you Red Bitch!" She screams at the Red woman who peaceful and impassive holds a torch in front of her. Behind her are hundreds of people; many of them worshippers of this fire God, her tears fall hot on her face but she will speak, they will hear her!

"I have nothing to do with the Highborns! I'm just a nobody from the North, burning me won't accomplish anything! I dyed my hair black! I'm not a red head anymore!"  
"The Lord of Fire and Light demands a sacrifice." The Red woman continues in her foreign drawl, "Lady Sansa, if you want me to stop burning red headed women in your stead you know what you must do."

"I'm not SANSA! I Keep telling you you crazy fucking bitch I'm not her! Same as all the other people in those cells aren't her! I'm not the sacrifice your fucking God wants!" Why is this woman so unreasonable? Her feet are dipped in pitch and she knows the fire will burn hot when it starts, she's so afraid, what sin did she commit to deserve this? She was a prostitute to survive, she knew the Septa's and religious people looked down on her profession but loads of people did it and even more employed them, it wasn't a choice it was forced on her and once she was doing it she couldn't have stopped but why is she being made to suffer so now?

"Lady Sansa I know you can hear this, I know you can feel this girl's fear as if it were your own and you know that you will feel her pain as if it were your own, you know what you must do, come back to King's Landing and face your destiny, you will serve the God of Light whether you will it or no."

Behind the Red Woman is a shadowy figure covered in a black shawl, the gold crown of the Baratheon's sits on his head. He seems to stare unmoving at the events as they unfold the black veil hiding his features. In a lower voice so only Ros can hear and Sansa who is trapped in this poor woman's body Melisandre tells her.

"He is Azor Ahai, your pitiful attempt to kill him failed, the Lord of Light's power flows through us and he has resurrected him, but I need your blood to replenish him fully, the blood of his murderer. Come back to King's Landing or I will burn them all, first the red heads, young and old and then the rest, those who serve Azor Ahai will be spared but all the rest, I will make you feel the final death pains of all the rest. You cannot avoid his cleansing fire forever, Kingslayer." Sansa knew what was coming next and she struggled and screamed trying to break free of the bonds, the strange magical bonds that bound her to Ros, the red woman had made a strange totem and pinned it to Ros's dress, if she could get it off then the bond would be broken and she would be free of the Red witch. Her hands were tightly tied though and like all the other times her struggles were in vain.

 

********

In Riverrun

The screams were so violent and persistent that the guards crashed through the door and ran into the bed chamber; expecting to find an attacker, the Maester brought a candle over to the princess's bed and was trying to examine her, she screamed, her hands behind her back she seemed to be struggling and thrashing as if she was tied down. Her Mother rushed in and they all tried to hold the girl down, shouting into her face to make her wake up from her nightmare, her night shift was drenched with sweat and there was a horrible smell in the room like burnt flesh. The King came in then with his sword drawn and his direwolf with him, Grey Wind immediately gave a booming bark to the room that made their ears throb and leapt at the Maester.

He cot the candlestick in his powerful jaws and ran to the window with it, leapt at the window and smashed it with his paws then threw the still lit candle out of it, he turned and gave the shocked room a yelp and started for the other candles, shards of glass in his great paws causing bloody footprints on the floor of the room. Snapping out of his shock Robb followed suit and started blowing out the candles then grabbed the water pitcher from the table and poured it over the fire in the grate. The room filled with black smoke and they all coughed as Sansa's screams finally stopped and she drifted back into her peaceful, drug induced sleep.

There is a strained pause as they all watch her now peaceful form and Grey Wind hops onto her bed while whining at his cut paws.  
  
"What happened? It was as if the mere presence of fire in the room was burning her."  
The Maester asks incredulously.

"That's what Clegane said would happen, he said strange things happen when she is around fire so we should have no flames around her." Robb replies disbelievingly

The Maester now sheepishly speaks up; "Your Grace, I-I had no idea, I thought the room was cold, I've never seen anything like this before. ." His disbelief was clear on his face, "It must have been a nightmare induced by the smell of the candle wax that's the only explanation." Everyone in the room looked around at each other.

"What about the smell? I swear I could smell burnt flesh." Talisa said what many of them had been thinking.

"There was something else too, I felt it the night Renly was stabbed in front of me by a shadow, this is the red woman's sourcery." Catelyn shuddered at the memory.

"I need to talk to Clegane" Robb finally decided, "Talisa, will you see to Grey Wind's Paws?"

"We should move Sansa to my room," Lady Catelyn spoke up, "The window is broken here, I don't want her catching a chill and I wish to be there when you talk to Clegane."

"I would also have you stay while I care for Grey Wind, he will obey you." Talisa told her husband, they put the girl on another stretcher and moved her to her mother's room, taking the precaution of outing all torches before they moved her. Talisa cleaned and bandaged Grey Wind's wounds by candle light in another room, all the time wondering how the wolf could have known that throwing out the candles would make her stop screaming. She had heard of these red priestesses in her home land and heard that they had strange magic, she had heard that they could see strange things in flames, but how would a wolf know that? She looked into the huge beast's eyes and not for the first time wondered just how much this creature understood, it was no ordinary beast.

  
************  
Sandor

In his too small cell Sandor lay on his back while his hand was rubbing furiously up and down his shaft, spreading the pre-cum over the top with his fingers and thrusting upwards into his hand. The room was in total darkness and was more than a bit chilly because he'd not lit a fire. His eyes rolling back in his head he thought of her, her face, her skin; so soft as he kissed her neck, her hands so soft as they had circled his waist and reached down to his breaches. Her kisses; she kissed him everywhere, savouring every moment like they had forever to enjoy it while at the same time only a short time together. He had always just taken a woman and thrusted into her until he was satisfied but not Sansa, instinctively she had known they should take it slow and encouraged him to do the same, they could spend half an hour just kissing with neither having unlaced their breaches which he found incredible because somehow although his blood boiled and he found the slowness of it infuriating it was still better than any sex he had ever had. Maybe it was because he cared for her, maybe it was because no one had ever spent any time caressing him and enjoying his body before; either way it felt right, right in a way nothing in his miserable life ever had been. He didn't know if her brother would kill him for deflowering his sister, maybe he wouldn't care, he had left her in King's Landing with her tormentors all that time after all. He shook his head trying to dispel these negative thoughts and focused on the task at hand, thrusting and pumping, imagining her pouty lips kissing his-

The door crashed open with a bang and stopped about a hand's width into the room before opening further, the door wedge flying across the room. Sandor immediately stood from the bed, his cock still in his hand as he struggled with his breeches and the King of the North entered.

"Good Gods Clegane is their no end to your depravity! Is that how you greet your King?!" The boy was incensed and Sandor had to bite back the angry retort he had as he tucked his still erect manhood away.

"Apologies your grace," he said through gritted teeth. "I was not expecting a visit and this is the first room I've been alone in for three weeks, what did Your Grace expect me to be doing?" He was tired and dissatisfied fro noting reaching his peak and this kid was reminding him painfully of Joffrey with his tone of superiority. "You lit candles around her, didn't you?" It was framed as a question but it was really an accusation. Safely tucked away now his long shirt covered the still painfully hard bulge in his pants which was quickly going limp at the thought of Sansa in danger.

"How did you know?" King Robb asked.

"What else could have happened at this time of night that would cause a King to visit his prisoner personally? - My apologies I did not see you there Lady Stark." He is tucked away now but his shirt is untucked and he is sure she knows what he was doing, 'brilliant, just brilliant' he thinks in despair.

Lady Catelyn stepped further into the little room and looked him up and down, he was cleaner than he had been at the tent but he was still huge and imposing. "You have not lit the fire in your room, or the candles you were provided with." It is both a statement and a question.

"Been in too many places the last few weeks with your daughter that spontaneously caught fire, I hope you have extra fire buckets around the castle like I requested." He is trying really hard not to shout at them, he left her in their care if they let anything happen to her he will not be responsible for his actions.

"Nothing caught fire but. . .she had a bad dream." If it's what he thinks then 'bad dream' is putting it mildly. He sighs and puts his head in his hands in defeat and counts to ten in his mind so that he will not loose his temper with his next words.

"She was screaming so loud you thought she was being attacked, she struggled as if her hands were tied behind her back, her eyes wouldn't open no matter how much you screamed at her, threw water on her or checked her for injuries and there was a smell coming off her of burning flesh. A powerful smell that up close made your eyes water and made you want to gag." His words and manor are coarse but his description is accurate, Lady Catelyn nods, slightly open mouthed at his words. He sighs in resignation; wishing that they had just listened to him and spared the little bird this pain. "It started our first night out of King's Landing on board a ship, I thought it was maybe delayed shock or something after all she'd been through, then we were ship wrecked and it happened twice the next night as she sat by a fire, I even picked her up and carried her into the sea hoping it would make it stop but it didn't. After that it happened three and four times a day but we figured out the connection; it only happened when she was near a fire, we were on a small schooner then, the men thought she had shaking fits or something, I had to gag her to stop the men from thinking I was killing her when it happened. I had to pay them a lot of extra gold so they would put out all the lights on the boat, even the safety ones that stop other boats from crashing into them in the night, we had to eat a lot of raw meals but it was worth it. What she suffers when she is around fire is too awful." The King and the Queen regent look at him for a while as if they are wondering if he is mad.

"You did not arrive by boat." The Queen Regent finally points out, he nods in the affirmative.

"They got tired of eating cold, raw food and lit a fire, they were all killed and the boat sank, she and I managed to swim ashore; their corpses followed us from the water and she was burnt on the arm again. Funny thing, it didn't heal the way the first one did, she thinks the salt in the seawater healed her faster than the fresh water of the Red Ford did which is kind of interesting, we've been adding salt to the water we clean our burns with and it does seem to work well, was she burnt again?" The rest of the account is calm but there is a bit of an inflection on his last question as if he is accusing them.

"No but there was the smell of burning you mentioned earlier though there were no injuries on her." He considers Lady Stark after this, a frown wrinkling his brow.

"I know I sound mad but just humor me, I've been keeping her alive these last two weeks, it has been a living hell but we have found methods of surviving it. Don't dismiss my advice again, for her sake." He spoke as slowly and as calmly as he could manage. It was the last part that affected Lady Stark and her face was a reflection of the pain he felt.

"We will follow your instructions from now on, thank you for taking such good care of her, you will be rewarded for your time."

"I didn't do it for a reward." She considers him again, his face is lit from the torches in the hall behind her while her face remains in darkness.

"Why did you do it then?" It is a simple question but the answer is anything but simple.

"I was the only one who would." The words are like a knife in the woman's heart and she glances at her son who is still frowning at the scarred man.

"You do want a reward though, you will need gold to start a new life for yourself, possibly across the narrow sea?" He has this dark suspicion, he has had it since he saw Clegane holding her hand in the tent, the two of them were so affectionate in her time of need, he needed to know now that this man wasn't going to make any claims on her.

"The Red Woman went on and on about destiny and how the world would be cleansed by her God's holy fire, she believed Stannis was Azor Ahai which would be a very bad thing for everyone as he does everything that Red bitch says. I don't know how or why but Lady Sansa is the only one who knows how to stop her, that's why she has been trying so hard to get Sansa back. My reward is let me fight in the war that is to come, I don't pretend to understand anything about the prophecies of promised princes and bleeding stars but I know if we loose, if the Red Woman wins we will all burn, I've seen it." The King is suddenly aware that he is in a small room without enough space to draw his weapon, with his mother at his side and this man could easily turn violent as he is clearly mentally unstable.

"Well, we will consider your offer to fight for The Stark forces-" he tries to back out of the room as he speaks but Clegane interrupts him.

"Not Stark forces, human forces. Old Gods, New Gods as long as it isn't her God." They nod in understanding and back out slowly before taking their leave. Out in the hallway Lady Stark turns to her son.

"Robb, what he says sounds insane but we were both in that room with Sansa, she was the victim of sorcery."

"Say what you mean Mother."

"I'm afraid that he is mad, but more afraid that he is not and that his fantastical tale is truth."

"Me too, but what can we do? Sansa should wake sometime in the morning and she can confirm or deny all of this." They continued on in silence, casting worried glances at the torches on the walls.

Inside his cell Sandor sat on the bed and thought about the talk with the Starks. They didn't believe him and she had suffered. He didn't know how to make them trust him or at the very least believe him, he sounded mad, he knew he sounded mad. With a grunt he lay back on the bed and tried to sleep, he hoped she would wake and explain everything in the morning, he hoped they would listen, he hoped that they would believe her but a part of him knew they wouldn't. In the cold light of day nightmares appear to be mere fantasies and he knew that they would have convinced themselves that all of this was just a dream. He sighed and rolled over to go to sleep, desperately hoping he had done enough.

  
***********

In another room of Riverrun an old retainer who has served the Tully family for sixty seven years of his life lights the candles and keeps watch over his late master's remains. His son, young Lord Edmure, should do this but there is a war and he is busy with pressing affairs of state. The dead body has been washed and laid out, ready for the Tully burial ritual, his illness lasted so long that his fingers have gone black and his lips have turned in from dehydration, it is very painful for the old retainer to see him in this way but he prays to the Seven for the safe passage of his master's soul and keeps vigil. As he prays the light from the candles in the room changes, going from a golden glow to a red one and Hoster Tully's body opens its red eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	8. What happened in Sansa's second bedroom of the night

**The Thing**

R’Holler’s fire flowed through its veins, it burns hot and fast, the vessel it is in will burn out soon, it must make new vessels to go to once this vessel fails; which it will, they always fail it eventually. It rises from the bed, it sees red, everything is red through its glowing eyes, a man stands before him, his hands clasped in prayer and look of jubilation on his face, he is old, his bones and sinews frail but he will do as a vessel, the thing uses its hands to strangle life from the man and rises. _She_ is here it must find her who is needed, who is so important, it must find her.

It uses the memories of the human who used to inhabit this body to find the room, Melisandre is present and not present, her will, her thoughts guide it. It walks to the room where the daughter of the owner of this body resides, she looks like the one it wants, it sees through the memories of its vessel, it will find one with the other. It is searching for _her_ ; it will find _her_. The hallway is dark and two; a male and a female, stand outside the door. I quickly kills them with its incredible speed and strength.

When it goes into the room the one it does not seek but looks like the one it does rises from a chair and reaches for him, there on the bed is the one it seeks, she slumbers peacefully as it never can, it walks to her, reaches for her but first it must make another vessel before this one burns out, it turns to the female and takes her flailing arms, its hands go around her neck and it squeezes. It could break her neck quickly but strangling her will preserve the vessel better for R’Holler.

 

**Catelyn**

 

She sat by Sansa’s bed her fingers moving quickly in the dark to make the prayer wheel; she needs no light to make it so it keeps her fingers busy as she watches her daughter’s frail sleeping form by moonlight. There have been so many surprises in the last day, part of her is afraid to close her eyes in case she wakes to find it was all a dream. Sansa was returned to her in answer to her prayers but that horrible man, what had he done to her in that time, she had prayed for her daughter to be returned to her by any means but her heart broke at the reality of what that truly meant. His brother was the most famous rapist in the seven kingdoms, the atrocities at Harrenhall were already stuff of legend. Worse the man was mad, what had her sweet daughter suffered at the hands of that lunatic? He was huge and imposing and Catelyn’s heart had broken at the signs of misuse on Sansa’s body; her hands had been bound, bruises on the rest of her showed obvious cruelty, Talisa said that her legs had gotten that way by riding a horse saddle but the mother had unwillingly imagined a much more horrifying way for her daughter’s legs to be rubbed raw like that.

She hears some commotion from the corridor before the door opens and she sees a feint red glow about the figure that enters, she rises to meet it as she realises it is her father, it is covered in blood and there is a gash that should have been life threatening across his chest, he looks from her to Sansa and moves toward her, almost instantly she comes to the horrifying realisation that this is one of the undead monsters Clegane described, too late she tries to get away.

**The Thing**

The thing was ripped from its vessel, before it managed to choke the life from the woman. It had failed and now there were not enough vessels for **his** light to spread! The thing did not die. That which does not live cannot die, but receded to where it had come from and waited for the next vessel that could be used for **his** glorious light.

 

**Sansa**

Wakened from her feverish slumber she smelt what was wrong before she saw or heard the thing. Opening her eyes, she lifted the unlit candlestick from the table next to her bed and hobbling out of the bed she brought the candlestick down on the head, the first time seemed to work but from experience she knew that you should always do a double tap, though in her fear and disorientated state she brought the metal candlestick down many more times than originally intended on the mushy mess that had recently been a head. She then stood, her injured leg an exquisite agony; the welcomed lingering effects of the milk of the poppy saving her from the worst of her pain. Her skin where the blood and brain matter had splashed in her face was prickling, the blood that flowed in the Red's veins was nearly boiling hot, it's why they never lasted long as the corpses boiled and cooked from the inside, however once you destroyed them the cooking became less inhibited by whatever rejuvenating qualities are in the Reds so the smell of boiling blood instantly got stronger as the room filled more potently with the smell of the cooking flesh. Standing there covered in blood, eyes wild, hair a mess, standing over the corpse she had made she looked upon her mother for the first time in two years, there were so many things she wanted to say but the only ones that came out were these.

"Valor Morghulis." Then she sank to the floor and fainted away, the milk of the poppy still working on her as she tried to make sense of her surroundings and passed into the blissful emptiness of a dreamless sleep.

 

When she woke again she was in the bed, the corpse was lying on the floor with people around it, she tried to sit up and searched her surroundings for a familiar face, Grey Wind was resting on the pillows next to her which calmed her but she still searched the faces for him. Her mother and brother were talking to two other men and she recognized Great Jon Umber who was pacing the room in a worried way, he looked right at her and the frustration and anguish of his features eased as he smiled at her, she recognized Lord Karstark kneeling on the floor examining the body but they all went silent when Sansa spoke.

"Where is Sandor Clegane?" Her mother broke from the group of men and stepped forward, angry red marks that were quickly turning to purple bruises were visible on her neck, Sansa knew she should feel something at seeing them, it worried her that she felt nothing.

"Sansa, thank the Gods you are awake, what do you remember?" Her mother's voice was hoarse, as often happens when a person is strangled. The rest of the group held back as if they were afraid that approaching would startle the girl. Her face was an impassive mask as she repeated the question.

"Where is Sandor Clegane? Is he alive?" She did not know what she would feel if he was dead. During the last two weeks she had often felt dead inside and sometimes wondered if she was dead and if she should just slit her wrists and have done with it, he had tied her up the first time she talked like that but it was too dangerous to tie her up all the time so he had tried to convince her of the benefits of living for hate and living for revenge, but seeing the change this caused in her countenance he had quickly stopped that. He wanted her to want to live but not if that meant that she wasn't her anymore, every night he told her; 'You are Sansa Stark, you are a good person, you have a loving family.' The last words always choked him a little as he found it hard to believe her family loved her half as much as they should. She had a younger sister who may still be alive and two younger brothers; no doubt they loved her, he had sometimes voiced his opinion that her brother Robb and her Mother cared more for titles and crowns then her, this never got so much as a frown from her, she had just listened to it impassively. That was before things changed, they were different now, everything was different now.

"He is in our custody, he cannot harm you-"

"I wish to see him now." Sansa cut her mother off.

"Sansa do you remember what happened tonight? Do you remember the man attacking me? You saved my life." Her voice went hopeful at the end and despite her smile there were tears flowing from her eyes, she reached for Sansa's hand but Sansa recoiled instinctively, and edged away in the bed.

"If he is alive then he must have told you that dead bodies reanimate around fire, so how did that one rise?" She nodded her head toward the body on the floor, the smell of charred flesh and congealing blood still filling the room.

Taking the hint Lady Stark pulled away and another man spoke up, his pale hair and pale blue eyes showing her he was Lord Bolton, her features did not change as her eyes went from her weeping mother to the man conspiring the massacre of her family, she felt nothing; she was ice.

"We regret that we did not take all of Sandor Clegane's claims seriously, can you confirm for us that all dead bodies rise if they are not first cut with Valerian Steel?"

"Yes, burning them completely until there is nothing left also works but they may rise from the flames as they burn, it takes hours and a lot of fuel to burn a body completely. Cutting off the head and destroying the brain also work well. All bodies in the area should be cut with Valerian steel, decapitated or brained." She indicated the corpse on the floor as she said the last bit.

"Thank you Lady Sansa I will see that these orders are carried out immediately."

"They should have been carried out earlier." There is no reproach in her voice, it is a statement of fact nothing more, she continues with an air of authority in her voice; "Make sure you check all the rooms the corpse had access to, it probably killed a few people so they can rise again like it did, check anywhere it could have hidden a body and deal with them." Lord Bolton's intelligent, calculating eyes stared straight into her own impassive ones as he bowed and promised to do as she wished.

"The corpse was my father, we never dreamed he could have become-" Her mother is crying more now at her daughter's coldness. "He was a corpse, it doesn't matter who he was in life, she claimed him in death." Lord Bolton, Lord Karstark and Lord Umber went to leave the room, this was a family reunion they were imposing on and they had more pressing duties to see to, the idea that there were hidden Red's like this one around the castle had made them all a bit nervous.

"Sansa." Robb approached the bed now, his bright blue eyes shining with unshed tears, she felt nothing for him but absently wondered at his appearance.

"Where is your crown?" His face breaks into a smile.

"Oh I don't wear that thing all the time, it's too heavy." He had thought her question was amusing and had answered her in a light-hearted way, she considered him for a moment with a cold empty stare and then repeated.

"Where is Sandor Clegane?" Robb faltered at this question and seemed confused by her demeanour, another man; greying red hair wearing unusual black armour stepped forward.

"Sansa, I am your Great Uncle Brynden Tully, we're all a bit upset at the moment but we think we should speak to you alone for a while before getting Clegane, you can see him in the morning if you so wish it."

"I want to see Sandor Clegane." The statement was simple but had a huge reaction on the room at large. Another man with a black eye stepped forward and lost his temper.

"You have just mutilated my Father's corpse, forget about that damn Clegane and tell us what is going on." His voice steadily rose to a shout as he spoke to the girl in the bed, his father's brain matter and blood still clinging in her hair.

"You did not listen when Sandor Clegane told you, why would I waste my energy repeating his words, you have seen the evidence of his honesty, I want to see him."

"Of course Sansa," her mother's voice, the voice of reason and authority. She lays a soothing hand on her brother's arm to calm him. "However it is the middle of the night and it would not be appropriate for him to come to your bed chamber, we will bring him to your solar in the morning if you are well enough to receive guests." She was trying to be soothing and motherly but all Sansa heard was condescension and disparagement in her tone.

Lord Bolton came back then, "Excuse me your Grace but as your family's safety as well as the safety of our army depends on knowing as much of this new threat as possible I have taken the liberty of fetching Clegane so we may question him in the light of recent events." The people in the room react differently to this news from trepidation to relief to anger on Edmure Tully's face. Clegane is brought in and spares barely a glance for the corpse on the floor or the concerned faces of the royal family, he has eyes only for Sansa before he turns to address her brother.

"You didn't take any of the precautions I told you to take." His voice is even as he speaks to Robb.

"My Grand Father only died earlier this evening, I didn't realise the threat included family, he would never have hurt his family when he was alive." Clegane looked him in the eye and sighed in disappointment, somehow this sigh was more insulting to the warriors in the room than if he had lost his temper and said all of the things he was obviously thinking about their King.

"You were supposed to take care of her." It is a statement of fact with only a hint of reproach in his tone. He then turns and approaches the bed, he keeps his distance but stays close enough for Sansa to feel safe. Robb silently fumes behind him at the audacity of the man.

"I have been protecting her, the guards on her door were killed by. . .by the thing, they were our best fighters, we made sure there were no candles in this room, we did as you said but your demands- even you must admit that they sounded ridiculous."

"If protecting me is too much responsibility for you brother then Clegane and I will take to the road again and head North, you do not need the extra pressures of -" Lord Karstark has returned, he is watching the events unfold curiously as dawn's early light begins to stream through the window. "-guarding me on top of the pressures of affairs of state, he actually follows the rules for keeping me alive and peace can be restored to your camp."

"Sansa-" Her mother is still shaken from her ordeal but attempted to be the voice of reason for her children, "-we didn't understand, Clegane's statements sounded like the stuff of nightmares, this was my father, never in a million years would I have thought him capable of. . ."Her voice trails off as she indicates the angry marks on her neck and the steaming pile of flesh on the floor that has been covered with a sheet.

"He was a corpse, what made you think he wouldn't be a threat?" The question, ridiculous as it sounded was anything but amusing and the room fell silent again, Sansa then turned to Clegane.

"Melisandre did it again, she had me experience another girl's last moments, her name was Ros, she used to live in Wintertown where I was from but Melisandre told her something, it's important, I now know why Melisandre wants me so much." His face is serious as he reaches for her hand but remembering her family are watching he settles for kneeling by her bed looking at her intently as she continues. "It's my blood, the blood of Stannis's killer, only my blood can rejuvenate him to his original form, I could see him, he was standing behind her; covered in a shroud, I couldn't see his face but it's probably pretty bad as he was completely covered, she still insists he is Azor Ahai and that he will be triumphant!" Her voice is full of emotion and to stop herself from reaching for him she grips the edge of her blanket and twists and knots it in her hands, since waking and smashing her Grandfather’s head in with a frenzy of blows this is the most emotion she has shown it I as if they are not being watched by half a dozen people.

"When did you kill Stannis?" Is Sandor's incredulous reply, she looks down at her hands and then back to him, a shy smile on her lips.

"The night we escaped, before that when Melisandre… did that thing with the leeches, when Davos untied me I saw it as my chance and tried to kill her but Stannis jumped in between us, I used my Father's sword and brought it down on his head. It was Valerian steel; she shouldn't have been able to resurrect him, I smashed through his skull with it, he shouldn't have been able to rise again, his face was just a big gash when I finished. I think whatever she raised isn't even as capable as a regular Red is, I think it is probably only able to sit there, shrouded, so no one can see the state of its face." He considers her for a moment.

"You never told me you killed him."

"I was getting to that part of the story but then I had one of those episodes and by the time I recovered I’d forgotten what I’d been telling you, besides I failed, if I had killed her it all would have been over. Instead she has resurrected some unholy monstrosity and is claiming it is Stannis, had I managed to kill her it would have been wonderful but my actions had the opposite affect: hundreds of innocents have burned for her to feed her blood magic, I made things worse when I meant to make them better, what more can I say?"

He sighed heavily and nodded at this statement, the lords in the room have been listening with rapt attention to this exchange, it was all very important, if only they knew what it meant and what affect this had on them and their war.

“Have you searched the rest of the keep for hidden bodies, they kill them and resurrect them later.” Clegane assumes his role as sworn shield as he addresses the assembled people.

“Aye, I’ve seen to it, my men have their orders.” Lord Karstark tells them, satisfying Clegane somewhat.

“The guards on Lady Sansa’s door should be armed with Valerian steel, the Great sword ice  or any smaller weapons that can be found, her guards would probably be alive now if they had had the proper tools.”

“I cannot give my ancestral sword to any common foot soldier.” Robb Stark infuriated at the audacity of the man speaks up though perhaps some of his fury comes from his sister and her bewildering behaviour, she will not look at him or his mother and only seems to want to talk to the large hulking figure who kneels inappropriately close to her bed.

Clegane gives a sad sigh which again infuriates the people in the room more than the angry words they were expecting would have, when he speaks it is to change the subject. “It probably put things up the chimneys, one of them did that in a farmhouse, we were staying nearby in their barn; it covered the chimney with a cloth so the farmhouse filled with bad air and the family: grandfather, grandmother, mother, children, babe they all died from the bad air, rose up afterwards and came after us. The Reds appear slow and dim witted but they aren’t, check the chimneys and anything else you think it might have gone near, their smell lingers in a room long after they have left.” His words are even, his recollections of the farmhouse are sad and she reaches for his hand as he recounts the tale, the gesture does not go unnoticed by the people present.

“It will be done; I’ll have everything checked again.” For a long time anger and bitter grief have framed every statement made by Lord Karstark but the strangeness of these events is making him think about others instead of his own anguish for the first time in months.

Many more things needed to be discussed but Sansa’s weakened state made that impossible so she is again left to sleep, the dead body is rolled up in the rug it lay on and removed from the room while Clegane refuses to leave her in her unprotected state. Instead he goes to the solar adjacent to her room and tells them all again about the precautions that must be taken to protect her. He wears chains around his ankles and wrists but makes no attempt to get loose of them, he just asks them again and again to comply with his requests for her safety. What really irks the young king is the way Grey Wind lets Clegane pet him, outside at the healer’s tent it had made him more trusting of Clegane and was the reason he had given Clegane guest rights instead of just throwing him into a cell then and there, or cutting off his head for his crimes. Now he is angry that his wolf is slobbering over Clegane’s hand, that his wolf obeys Clegane and does as he is bid and stays by Sansa’s side as they go to the solar. Also what bothers him, what really hurts him was Sansa’s tone and the iciness of her words, why had she been so animated and happy to see Clegane, the sworn shield of their enemy? When she had been so cold to them, her own family? He knew there was treachery afoot and wanted to speak to his Northern Lords in private about it.

 


	9. Chapter 9

In a solar in Riverrun

Robb sat at the head of the table in the solar next to Sansa’s room, Clegane sits across from him still in chains and tells them in more detail of his and Sansa's journey from King's Landing and the things they endured. Grey Wind is lying on the bed with Sansa, ever the diligent guard dog but Robb still felt a tug of jealousy when he saw the way Grey Wind seemed to follow Clegane's form with his eyes as he left the room rather than Robb's which was the norm. Sansa was left to rest in bed with the morning light just beginning to come into the room. In the adjacent room to hers sits Edmure Tully, new Lord of Riverrun, Brynden ‘The Blackfish’ Tully, Lady Catelyn, Great Jon Umber, Lord Karstark, Lord Bolton and a distraught Maege Mormont. Her daughter Dacey died guarding Sansa's room, her shock at hearing of her daughter's death had only been surpassed by hearing of the manor of her death. Half a dozen Riverlords are in the room along with the Maester, they have been examining the body and listening to Clegane tell again of his experiences in the battle of the Blackwater, of his experiences with the two ship wrecks they have been on and all of the reanimated bodies.

"So if my Dacey had known to aim for the head instead of the torso she would have had a chance." Lady Mormont says after examining Hoster Tully's caved in skull, the gaping wound in his chest and her own daughter's dead body. Clegane insisted that the guards' bodies had to be cut, just a small nick on the hand with Valerian steel and they had complied, there was anger and rage in Maege's eyes as she said this; Dacey's throat had been cut with her own axe, the one her mother had given her, her pain is beyond words so she holds her tongue as Clegane tells his tale for fear she will break down in tears if she does speak. “We went on foot north through Crack Claw Point until we reached a smallish harbour, mostly fishing boats and such, we commissioned a boat to take us to Riverrun; a simple sailing boat run by a father and his two sons, we had the dog from the old man we met on the beach and my horse. I paid them extra not to light any fires on the boat, the way the flames had changed on the last boat; as if they were fuelled by sorcery and reaching for things to burn, it had me on edge so we took extra precautions. Even when we weren't around flames Sansa-"

"Princess Sansa, you will address her by her proper title." Robb knew he was sounding petty and childish but Clegane’s familiar manor had him on edge, the interruption was not appreciated by many of the Lords in the room.

Clegane stared at him for a heartbeat before nodding and continuing with his tale; "About six times a day Princess Sansa would suffer from a . . . fit, it wasn't shaking sickness, I've seen shaking sickness in young Lord Robert Arryn, this wasn’t that it was torture. She screamed that she was burning, screamed at Melisandre to leave her alone it wasn't that she was going mad eather, the dog always reacted and growled before these episodes even started like he knew they were coming and her skin was always strangely hot and the smell-" He grimaces now at the memory. "It would fill whatever room we were in with the smell of burning flesh but as soon as she stopped screaming and the episode was over the smell went away. I did everything I could to help her," he contemplated telling them about her failed suicide attempt but decides the tale of how he lay on top of her and tied her up probably wouldn't go down well in present company. "Princess Sansa said that she could see, hear, smell and feel everything as if she was standing on one of those pyres outside the Great Sept of Baelor, she said Melisandre was putting some sort of totem she had made from Lady Sansa's hair on every one of the people she has burned so that Lady Sa-Princess Sansa has experienced the pain of burning to death sixty three-sixty four, after this evening, times." The information is accepted with solemnity and horror by everyone assembled.

“The third day on the boat the men lit a fire, probably to cook a meal, I paid them extra to eat only cold food stuffs but I suppose they thought I was just being paranoid, the dog warned us, he was a good companion worth his weight in gold, animals know what's happening long before humans do. He barked so much we knew what was coming, I had the sword ready and had to cut them down but it's hard to swing a long sword in a narrow boat's cabin and in the end we had to make do with bludgeoning them with any weapons we could find. The dog tried to bite through one of their throats, their blood runs hot; really hot and it burned all of the inside of his mouth, there were bad blisters in his mouth and on his tongue choking him so I had to give the creature mercy." There is the slightest hint of emotion though Clegane remains mostly stone faced during the whole tale, it is a sentiment that a few of the men understand; soldiers kill men all the time but killing a dog, an animal you cared for and who cared for you is an entirely different thing. "They were too bad to heal and went down his throat, he would have choked to death in agony so keep any dogs you use for patrols muzzled." There is a nod and Lord Bolton makes a note, he often takes notes during meetings and is treating this as any other official meeting. It puts Sandor at ease, this man in his cold calculating way reminds him of Tywin Lannister and he feels reassured that the things he says will be taken seriously, though he would not trust this man an inch. “The boat was on fire but we managed to put it out, everything seemed quiet and then the bodies started climbing up the sides of the boat, they were bloated and water damaged, had died in different ways but they were all close enough to the fire and Princess Sansa to rise from the water; the weight of them on all sides made the boat start to buckle, I cut down as many as I could but we had to scuttle the boat and swim for shore." He pauses here, and takes a drink from the water in front of him, his voice has gone hoarse with the all the talk and they wonder if it is so deep because of all the fires he has been in recently or if it was always so deep and rasping. "After galloping for a day away from the riverbanks we found a small farm house and begged for shelter; they gave us food and let us sleep in the barn, there were three children in the house, that night while we slept a Red climbed onto the roof and covered the chimney so the cottage filled with poison air and they all died, they rose again and came after us, we got on my horse and took off the ones from the river and the farmhouse following; it was harder for us to kill the babies than the adults, their eyes glow red so you know they are Red's but they still look like babes." There is an uncomfortable shifting in the room at this statement, what hell had they lived through?

“So there was someone else with you escorting Princess Sansa home?” Lady Catelyn asks in her still damaged voice with hope on her face.

“No just me and her travelling to Riverrun.” Clegane answered in confusion at the look of disappointment on her face, had he not made it clear that it was only the two of them?

“But you said…you said it was harder for _us_ to kill. . .” Understanding dawned on Sandor’s face.

“Tonight wasn’t the first time she had to kill a Red your Ladyship, they plan and coordinate their attacks so they happen when I am away from her and they come at us from different sides, she had to learn how to protect herself early on in our journey or we wouldn’t have survived.” There is an unspoken grief on the young mother’s face, her daughter is alive but another part of her innocence is gone, she had to kill to be alive, two years was a long time to be apart from her but she had always felt like her would still be somewhat the same when she returned to her family. Sandor decided to fill silence with the rest of his tale.

“We would have been dead, should have died but then the wolves started howling in the woods we were galloping towards and Sa-La-Princess Sansa said we should go to the wolves, better to die feeding them than burnt by Red's, so we rode toward their howling." He looks at Robb then with a sad smile contorting his features and making him look even more ugly. "We heard stories in King's Landing about you having an army of wargs and skin changers but I never believed it, not until the wolves surrounded us but didn’t attack, they led us to a clearing, deep in the forest a huge bunch of Weirwood trees all growing together, the wolves circled and stayed close to us: proper wild feral wolves not the tame pet you have in the other room, the Reds couldn't cross into the grove of trees, they just stayed outside it until their bodies failed." He stops then, he hates lying and what he has described is not exactly what happened.

When they got to the grove of trees they were sore and exhausted, his horse collapsed in a heap and he was sure he would die from exhaustion, Sansa collapsed when he tried to lift her off the horse and fell to the ground, she had often begged him to kill her, offered to kill herself if he would give her a knife, the episodes where she suffered from Melisandre's sorcery were killing her; she no longer wanted to live, he had to coax her into each bite of food she swallowed, each gulp of water, had to force her to rise every morning and keep going but he was fighting a losing battle and he knew it. He granted the dog mercy to stop its suffering and eventually she would convince him to grant her the same mercy she kept begging him for. Deep down he knew that killing her would be a kindness and afterwards he would go back to King's Landing and kill that bitch and die in the attempt if necessary, the Reds had been trying to drive them South since the River; chasing them but never catching them, he was exhausted but he had noticed this. Lying among the weirwoods' white roots she seemed to accept that her death was coming, same as it was coming for the horse that Clegane tried to rub down and cover in a horse blanket so he would not die; she looked broken, she lay there pale as weirwood bark on weirwood roots with hair as red as weirwood leaves, he supposed it wasn’t such a bad place to die. It started snowing after the Reds arrived at the perimeter, they circled around trying to find an opening, the hound lay next to her and covered her with his cloak as she lay there, staring at the weeping face of the weirwood he prayed to the old gods if they were listening, if they existed to help them. He never held with any gods but looking around it had seemed like a sacred place the wolves had led him to die, he held her close and hoped her death would be painless, she had suffered enough, they both had.

The snow started to fall harder and the wolves came in and covered his and Sansa's bodies with their own, giving them the benefit of their warm coats, holding her closer as they did this, if they were going to die he wanted to die holding her, he was too mentally exhausted to fight death, he would welcome the stranger like an old friend when he came for them. He watched the wolves as they covered his horse with their warm bodies too, all of them sleeping in a warm happy pile under the red leaves of the Weirwood trees. The snow fell around them as if they were in the eye of the storm, the snow circled violently outside of the enclosure with trees freezing so fast that the frozen sap inside them caused them to snap and explode, the Reds froze too, the fire in their veins finally put out. He looked at the forlorn face on the biggest Weirwood tree and tried to understand if this was the Northern Gods work, he remembered Sansa praying in the Gods’ wood of the Red Keep and never getting a reply, he remembered Melisandre’s control over fire and how it seemed to obey her because of her God but this was different, this was ice.

As the snow and the ice outside their little sanctuary became more concentrated he looked down at Sansa's face, her skin was deathly pale and her vibrant red hair was turning white at the front of her head, he tipped her head back and looked into her eyes that were now shining with an eerie blue light that seemed to come from within her. Some part of him realised that she was losing some internal struggle, that something was happening to her that was different from Melisandre's sorcery, her pale blue eyes and whitening hair reminded him of the stories she had told him about Whitewalkers. She had a dreamy look on her face as if she did not really see him so he did the only thing he could think of, the thing that he had wanted to do for the longest time and kissed her. Her lips were like ice, so cold that they were painful on his own, he had to kiss her long and hard to make her react to his touch, soon she was pulling at his clothes and he was pulling at hers. They did not make love; this was not love this was desperation; this was a fight for life. She had felt dead for so long and had needed something good to hold onto, he had needed her, wanted her, that night on the beach but he had held back although it had been mostly her initiating their intimacy that night, now he couldn't hold back. The wolves moved away and allowed them to remove some of their clothes as he pulled her breeches off her, spread her legs under him and unlaced his own breeches. He pumped himself with his hand twice before ripping away her small clothes and entering her with no preparation beyond the frantic kisses he had already placed on her face and neck, his hands moving over her body and caressing each breast and ass cheek. A part of him knew he should have prepared her, she was a maid, he didn't want to hurt her but another part, an animal part of his mind that listened to no reason made him enter her as quickly as he could. Above them the Wierwood branches moved and he could almost hear a voice saying "yours, ours" she moved under him, wrapping her legs around his torso and pulling him closer, her pale blue eyes changed from their normal blue to pale blue and back repeatedly and he clung onto her tighter, all the time saying “Look at me look at me.”, terrified that if she looked away she would be lost from him forever, her white hair framed her face but she looked anything but old; a blue flame now danced along her skin, it's ethereal flames engulfed them in an inferno that didn't burn. It was the same pale blue as her pale eyes and filled the enclosure with a strange ghostly luminescence.*

They did not make love they fought together for her salvation. When he felt himself come he let his seed spill into her belly and pumped himself into her a few more times, enjoying her tight warmth, he rested for a while just looking into her eyes that were now Tully blue again. Sometime during the act her arms had gone around his neck and she gently stroked the back of his head, smoothing her fingers through his long matted hair before he rolled over and pulled her on top of him, the blue flames dancing along their skin and he fell into a deep sleep watching her face in the moonlight, too tired and spent to care anymore at the magic of it all. He slept for at least a night and a day but he was unsure how long it really was, when he awoke Sansa was curled into his chest and the wolves still warmed their bodies around them. The unseasonal snow storm had finished and the sun's early morning rays shone on their semi naked bodies. When Sansa felt him stir she sat up and looked at him in all of her naked glory and they just looked at each other, the sunlight making her hair a golden fire and a sheet of purest snow. "What happened last night little bird?" She smiled at the familiar nickname he had for her as the hand she had under his shirt started play with his chest hairs.

"We joined in the sight of the gods, everything is different, we have to prepare the North for the war that is to come." "Little bird, stop we must talk, what we did last night, no one need know, I'll find you moon tea, I'll never force you like that again. . .I don't even know what came over me, I've never lost control like that it was as if- there's no excuse for what I did to you, I-" She pressed a kiss against his lips and held his face in her hands.

"Sandor a lot of things happened that you didn't understand, that you cannot have understood," the wolves gracefully got up and stretched their lithe bodies around the clearing, "The old gods have bound us together, we spilt my maiden blood in this clearing, on the roots of these sacred trees, we are bound now before the Gods and they have given me some of their strength and power."

"I'm not sure your brother will see it that way."

"My brother will be dead in less than a moon's turn if we do not move, the Gods have spoken to me, didn't you hear them?" She sounded older, more mature in a way that could not have only come from him fucking her.

"I heard something." He said uncertainly. Sansa smiled that sweet genuine smile of hers that he had not seen since Winterfell and kissed him again. In the room at Riverrun he looks around at the Lords of the North, he seriously doubts her Kingly brother will allow a marriage such as theirs based on such flimsy grounds as the Gods sending them a sign that it was right, the blue fire never happened again, and they had made love many times since that night, never in a warm feather bed like she deserved but on the cold hard ground, partially clothed for warmth. He had never intended to take a wife or be a husband,he felt like someone should have told him that that was what he was doing when he took her under the trees that night, she couldn't be his,not really ot while all of these highborn Lords were calling her brother a King and her a Princess and him a turncoat. It would be different if they could produce that blue flame again and show them the will of their gods, but she said the blue fire was a once off, a sign that their union was blessed, pity she couldn't make it again and show it to them. He didn't know much about Northern marriages but he felt that they had definitely skipped a few parts, like vows and witnesses, that many people would consider important. He took another gulp of water to allow himself time for these musings before continuing.

“The wolves responded to her in a way I've never seen, they warmed my horse with their bodies, followed her. Everything changed after that day with the Weirwood trees, now Melisandre only has power over Princess Sansa when there is fire near her, the times when she suffers the pain of the victims in King's Landing only happens around flames and the Reds are fewer now, unfortunately they are also getting craftier. The wolves stayed with us the rest of the way here, Princess Sansa sent them away before we reached the Stark camp as we didn't want to bring a pack of hungry wolves into your barracks. Then the mountain lion attacked and I came here as quickly as I could with her.”

They consider him in silence for a while, they all know the story of each Stark child having a Direwolf pup as a pet but they have only ever seen Robb and his interactions with his Direwolf. What Sandor has described is a completely different thing and the Southern Lords who follow the Seven and therefore have a natural dislike for all things skin changer related are now looking around uncomfortably at their King. The Northern Lords too are frowning, but Lord Bolton is again the voice of logic and reason with his silky smooth tone of voice.

"There have been reports from our scouts of an abnormal number of wolf sightings in the area but they mostly keep their distance, would Princess Sansa be able to demonstrate this control over the wolves that you have described?" An excellent questions which at once allows Sandor to prove his sanity/insanity while not giving away whether any of the Lords believe his fantastical tales.

"Yes, there should be a grove of Weirwood trees close by, bring Lady Sansa there as soon as she is able and she should be able to show you everything, you must send out orders that no one is to harm her wolves, they are more use to the North alive as fighters than dead as firs."

When Clegane is brought back to his room the Lords discuss these developments, if Clegane is mad or simply making up stories then the corpse that killed people is harder to explain. Roose Bolton had his men search three floors of the Keep armed with blunt objects and nets, he wanted to catch one of these things alive for closer examination, his men had been successful; they killed two Reds but also caught two alive he told the assembled lords and ladies, they were servants and guards who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, their bodies shoved into empty alcoves and cupboards. The Lords went down to the dungeons to see the now chained creatures in the dungeon, Maege Mormont is in a mix of emotions that such a fate could have been her poor Dacey's. The other Lords are simply scared, disgusted and curious by the abominations before them. Eventually they decide killing the things would be safer than letting them live and Robb uses the sword Ice to give them shallow cuts, they immediately go limp and the red light goes from their eyes.

 

In the Game of Thrones you win or you die but the rules of death have been changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * This refers to St Elmo's fire which is a weather phenomenon in which luminous plasma is created by a coronal discharge from a sharp or pointed object in a strong electric field in the atmosphere which can be caused by thunderstorms or volcanic eruptions.  
> In this story the fire represents the power of Winter I Sansa and Sandor's union because magic stuff happens in Game of Thrones.


	10. Sansa treats with the Gods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa wakes and meets her new good sister and meets the wolves in the godswood.

**Roose Bolton**

Roose Bolton rarely got excited, even more rarely would he let such excitement show but there was no denying that these were exciting times, he kept a Red secret from the King and spent a good three hours experimenting and finding ways to kill it. Clegane had been telling the truth; they did not hunger or thirst, did not tire or feel pain, they were the perfect soldiers. He flayed the skin off the abdomen of the one he had, it uttered not a sound and seemed oblivious to any sensation of pain. He then cut through the now exposed abdominal muscles to reach the organs underneath. Robb Stark was a fool in many ways; killing those other Reds was just what he'd expect of him, he probably thought it was honourable to put them out of their misery and 'give them a decent burial', the young king failed to understand that in war understanding your enemy could make you win or loose. When he cut off the flesh the smell of heated blood filled the room and it instantly got hotter; he had to use a t ongs to touch the internal organs which he cut out and removed one by one, all of them steaming as if they had been in a hot oven; yet the thing still moved and and seemed unconcerned by the removal of the stomach, intestines and liver. The thing was tied down at its wrists and ankles to a table and Rose worked in his methodical organized way as he neatly removed each peace.

He turned to pick up the instrument needed to crack open the rib cage as he reflected on what a pity it was that everything was already arranged with Frey. Had he been unmarried and Lady Sansa had come into the camp he could have asked for her hand, making him Robb Stark's heir to the Northern Kingdom, the boy was hard headed in some ways but he had great respect for Roose and his military service, if only he had followed all of Roose's advice then none of this would have been necessary. The news that the Lannister royals were dead changed everything and nothing, Tywin was the leader of the Lannister clan and while he and Kevan lived the Lannister's had a claim on King's Landing, Princess Marcella being in Dorne complicated things, the history between the Martells and the Lannister's being as bad as it was.

This Princess of the North was something else though, he had heard stories about her being beaten and shamed in King's Landing and had thought of her only distantly as King Joffrey's property but when he saw her in her bedroom; beautiful wasn't the word for it. The strange contrast of red and white hair; still covered in the remains of the thing she had killed. She had been knocked out by milk of the poppy and lost a lot of blood, if the bandage on her leg had been any indication and though she had suffered greatly she had still gotten out of her sick bed and caved in the skull of her Grandfather. He had admired her work and as much as he could Roose Bolton had fallen in love with her, her family had no poetry in their souls for what she was, they were just upset that she wasn't their sweet girl that played with dolls and sung songs all the time. They didn't see her for the true beauty she was; she could not show emotion for a corpse that tried to kill her. This had made her seem cold and unfeeling but he had understood her sentiments; she was a ice cold killer just like him. She didn't go on about honour or glory like her brother did.

He had gotten Clegane to see her reaction to him more than anything, he had also known that her brother and his Riverlands family would not allow such impropriety as bringing a man such as him to an unmarried lady's bedchamber in the first hours of the morning. He had curiously watched the reunion; here was the hound former sworn shield to her torturer and betrothed yet he had turned his loyalty completely over to her. He had been unsurprised at the blood splatter on her; which told Roose that the Hound had seen her kill before, often enough that it was not even worth comment.

What a queen this Stark would have been, she was not caught up in cautious and polite words like the rest of the Riverlands Lords who never seemed to say what they meant she was cold steel. Yes it was a great pity that everything was already arranged with the Freys and the Lannister's, they had gone too far to back out now though perhaps he could still claim the girl for himself. Ramsey's first wife having died he could arrange something with Ramsey and her. The rules of first night could now be used freely in the north, the Stark's had banned the practice but as the New Warden of the North he planned to bring it back and make full use of it.

As he removed the charred, steaming lungs from the corpse Roose smiled to himself at the thought.

 

 

**Lord Karstark**

He was not a devout man, he held to the old gods and had nothing to do with the strange Southern ones but he found Clegane's tale of the Weirwood trees protecting them made him wonder. He had lost two sons during this war and no amount of time seemed to ebb his grief. His lands were being attacked by Ironborn raids, the land went unattended, the final harvest of the summer not yet sewn. His youngest son third in line who was never prepared for the duty would now be a Lord, meanwhile the Kingslayer had been set free, his chance at revenge set free by the king's mother. Looking at the princess in the bed he had to admit that if she had been his he would have done anything to get her back too, even if Lady Catelyn had gone too far. He paced the training yard and tried to make sense of a world with no sense in it when he saw Maege Mormont walking to the Godswood, there were no Wierwood trees in the Riverrun Godswood but they had a substitute oak with a face carved into it. She had lost a daughter this morning and he remembered that he had not even paid her his respects so he followed her.

Like all Mormont women she had a strong face, not pretty and delicate like Lady Catelyn but she had an imperial beauty all of her own, she stood before the false Weirwood tree as he joined her.

"I'm so sorry for your loss Lady Mormont." Useless words, they wouldn't help her pain at all, he knew from personal experience but they had to be said.

"Why? You did nothing, I'm sorry that our King let it happen, I was there when Clegane told us yesterday evening of the Reds, he said whoever guarded Princess Sansa should have the Valerian sword, my Dacey said guarding rooms was boring and no place for a trained warrior, she was trained to swing for the chest, her death could have been-should have been prevented if she had been told how to protect herself." They lapse into silence as they look upon the false Weirwood. "Of course I mean no disrespect to our King."

"Of course." He answers a bit too quickly.

"Do you believe his story about the Weirwood trees protecting them?" She finally asks and turns to look him in the eye as he considers his answer.

"Ned Stark worshipped the Old Gods, Clegane has definitely been taking care of her with Ned Stark's sword, perhaps the old gods decided to .... I don't know, so many things have happened, why would the Gods intervene for them and not for our children, why would the gods save them and not your daughter, my son and others?"

"I don't know the workings of the Gods but I do worry that our King is a good man but he is also a young man, he showed some childish jealousy in the room with Clegane more than once."

"Yes of everyone in the room the most reasonable was the Princess who had just brained a dead man and was high on milk of the poppy."

"I look forward to her waking up, there are a lot of things I want to know. I will mourn my Dacey when the war is over. For now we must focus on dealing with this new ungodly threat." Her face is stern and set as she says this, she is a strong woman and will not let her overwhelming grief conquer her.

 

 

**In the Princess's chambers**

 

She woke in the same room and the same bed with Grey Wind’s strong presence at her side and started to move the covers aside so she could rise, almost instantly the same healer from the tent was upon her and helping her to pull back her sheets.

"You should really rest, your leg would heal better if you keep it elevated." Talisa admonishes as she tries to help the girl untangle herself from her sheets.

"Then have a cot made for me so I may be carried around until I am fully healed, and send for my maids I need to dress." Sansa has her Princess voice on as she addresses the healer, unaware that she is the Queen.

"Of course but you are very pale please lie back and eat something first, I will ring for them." The woman went to the bell pull to summon the maids and turned around trying to think of a way she could tell this girl that they were family. "My name is Talissa Maegyr, I am your brother's wife." Sansa's head snaps up in shock at that and she gives the woman a cold assessing look from head to toe.

"He was betrothed to a Frey." Her voice is even and is lacking emotion. "Yes but we fell in love-"

"He broke his oath?" It is a question and a statement.

"Well after Theon killed your broth-" she stops herself before speaking any further. Unsure of what the girl knows about the little Princes' unfortunate fates and unwilling to cause her any anguish in her current state.

"What has Theon's actions to do with yours?" Her question is cold and simple, she already knows about the Princes.

"Well Robb needed a friend-"

"King's do not marry friends."

"We, we made love and Robb wanted to save my honour." The admission comes out in one go and Sansa is relieved by the honesty, having finally dragged the confession from the young woman. She continues to watch and assess the new Queen of the North, she finds her badly wanting, her dress is a thick plain wool yet she seems cold. The young queen becomes nervous under Sansa's scrutiny and starts talking about her experiences with the healer's tent, her experiences as Queen, her journey here from her home in a slave city in Essos. Sansa listens to every word, learning as much as she can about this new Queen. The maids bring hot water for a bath and Sansa is carefully lowered into it as her leg and its bandage are carefully held up from the water by her new goodsister. She remembers her courtesies and thanks the maids and the Queen for their help, all the time thinking that a queen should not be doing work like this even if it was for her goodsister. Dressed and alone together again Talisa begins to speak.

"Princess Sansa I want you to know you can trust me with anything, anything you tell me will not leave this room, now tell me honestly do you need moon tea?" Sansa considers the woman for a moment before replying.

"Is that why you are here and not my mother?"

"She has her Father's funeral arrangements to attend to. We thought you might find it easier to talk to me alone, now there is no shame, no one need know, not even your husband on your wedding night but the longer we leave it the more difficult it would be, so tell me honestly, do you need moon tea?" Talisa has nothing but genuine concern on her face as she asks this difficult question.

"I was not raped, a few men tried in King's Landing and on our way here but Sandor Clegane killed them all." Sansa answers truthfully.

"And did he ever. . ?" Talissa is understanding and kind in her question and Sansa answers her as honestly as possible, the ability to lie that she learnt in King’s Landing coming into play.

"He never raped me or molested me in anyway." It is the truth, he didn't rape her it had been entirely consensual, she thinks; that first time in the Godswood was a bit of a blur. She had felt herself dying, she had felt the minds of the wolves reaching out to her, pulling her away from her weak and painful human form. She had felt the ice; painless and strong pulling her into its icy embrace. Then she had felt Sandor, he wasn’t the Hound since King’s Landing, he wasn’t Clegane since the shipwreck when he had to kill the undead fishermen, he was Sandor now. The responsibility of keeping her safe and facing his worst fears on a daily basis to achieve that goal had slowly brought out the worst parts of himself but every time the awful things had happened he had had to comfort her, a thing he had never had to do before and she had comforted him in turn and together they stripped him of all the layers of anger and resentment that the Lannisters had made part of him over the years. He had been warmth and humanity and comfort in her pain as she lay in the sacred grove; she could have embraced the ice, she could have gone to the wolves and Melisandre could never have touched her with her blood magic again but then who would have comforted him? Who would have held him at night and held her in turn? He would become angry and bitter and a worse killer than the Hound had ever been, he needed to save her, to do one honourable thing that could get him through the nightmares that were the memories of his past life. She reached out to him then and it was animalistic, it was need on both their parts. Talisa pulled her out of her musings with her next question.

 “I have sent to town for hair dye for your hair, we will soon have it that beautiful fiery red you so love again." Sansa does not let her contempt for the woman show on her face or in her words, what cares she for looks when they are at war for their very existence? It says a lot about this woman’s perception of Sansa that she thinks her main concern would be her own vanity upon waking in an army camp.

"Thank you, you are very considerate your majesty, we will have to see about dying it later I quite like the contrasts in colour, now I must treat with the old Gods and with my brother."

Within an hour she is sitting in the lightweight cot that she had made for her. Sitting as regal and elegantly as she can manage she orders the cot to be lifted and carried to the Godswood, guards flank them on all sides, many who see them stop and bow to the queen and newly arrived princess. She knows she is not their idea of a princess; her hair is short, white as snow at the front and red as blood at the back, her cheeks and nose are covered in freckles, she wears one of her mother's dresses from her youth which is slightly out of date in style. She is now taller than her mother was at her age so the dresses in her mother's family home will need to be adjusted to suit her, her legs and feet are covered in firs, she is pale and sickly thin, no she is not anyone's idea of what a princess should be.

At the edge of the woods she orders the men to proceed through the trees, the men are hesitant at first but she insists, many Lords are now following them; Mormont, Karstark and Bolton were all told of her expedition and wanted to see where she would go. She exchanges greetings with them and proper introductions with them as they had not had the chance the night before. On her insistence they carry the cot deeper into the woods where there is no path and they are left wondering what has made her think this is a good idea in her injured state. And then they see the Weirwood, it is tall and pale like her white hair while the red leaves are as beautiful and rich a red as her red hair and like her hair there is an ethereal beauty to it, for many of the northerners following the procession this is the first Weirwood they have seen since before the army went south of the neck. It is glorious in its unexpected and natural beauty. Sansa has the men carrying the cot put it down and lift her so she may sit on the bare earth and exposed roots. She sits in silence and the group follow her lead saying nothing, Lord Karstark finds his hand reaching for Maege Mormont's and she gives it a companionable squeeze.

The northerners stand in awed silence at the sight and stand before the Wierwood, the few Riverlanders who followed them as well as Talisa watch in perplexed silence, to them it is just a tree, interesting as they have not seen one like it before but a tree nonetheless. Some of them have things to do and leave as quietly as they arrived but many stay for a few hours, waiting for the princess to speak, Lady Catelyn arrives half way into the second hour to find her injured, pale daughter and sickly sitting on the cold moss strewn ground with several lords around her. She always allowed Ned to sit as long as he needed in Winterfell’s Godswood but this is taking a bit far so she gingerly walks around the other sitting lords and stands in front of Sansa whose head is leaning against the bark of the tree behind her; her eyes look milky white and Catelyn thinks she has fallen asleep.

"Sansa, it is time to get up dear, it is too cold to stay out here." She puts her hand on Sansa's shoulder and she jerks awake with a start, seeing her mother before her she looks around the clearing at the changed light and the Northern faces still present.

"I was praying, I have much to ask the Gods guidance on, I will return to the Keep shortly." She says it in a hushed tone so as not to break the peace of the other men and women's meditation. However her answer is less than satisfying for Lady Catelyn.

"Sansa you must come in now, you will catch a chill, you can pray in the Sept in the Keep that is much warmer that here." Sansa does not answer but something furry brushes past Catelyn's hand, she turns expecting to see Grey Wind but instead sees an unknown wolf gracefully sauntering past her and sitting at Sansa's feet, she opens her mouth to yell or scream until she sees her daughter's hand burying in the wolf's fur and a contented look pass over her face. More wolves are now filling the clearing, they noiselessly pad past the meditating people, some go straight to Sansa, others sniff the people around her and then sniff at her. Catelyn vaguely knows that a wolf pack is a family; the alpha male, his mate and their offspring, with an occasional lone wolf adopted into the folds, all of these wolves look like adults to her and there are dozens of them. One walks straight up to Maege Mormont who was watching the proceedings between Mother and daughter and nuzzles and licks her face, many other Northerners get the same treatment; they are sniffed, then nuzzled, then licked. However the whole exchange is not heart-warming; these wolves are wild with matted fir, the blood of their latest kills still stains their mouths and although they lick the northerners it is not affectionately done or in the spirit of play, it is a more solemn encounter than that as if they are saying, I know your scent I know your taste, I won’t kill you for now but look at how sharp and big my teeth are.

None of the wolves approach Lady Catelyn though they do look at her in a strangely intense way.

"I am ready now." Sansa moves to rise, using a large wolf's back to balance herself on as she tries to get her bad leg into a good position. "I wish to call a meeting in the Great hall for later today with all of the Lords present there are things that happened in King's Landing and other affairs of State which must be discussed. For now I have sent word to the king that I wish to speak to him and my uncles in private."

Good breeding and years of social etiquette helped Lady Catelyn to respond eloquently where a lesser woman would have only been able to mumble in shock at the scene of wolves and men before her. "Of course, your brother would like to see you and talk to you, we will have to arrange for you to talk privately-"

"Now, I already sent people with the message to gather all relevant parties in the Great Hall two hours from now and sent another message to the King, Lord Tully and Ser Brynden." She replies in tone that is matter of fact.

"Sansa you are not well enough to call such a large meeting and your brother's Bannermen have important duties they cannot just drop to-"

"The meeting has already been called, do not presume to tell me what to do again, remember as Princess of the North I now outrank you and I will not take being talked down to in such a manner in front my country men." Her voice is low, her tone even, but everyone close by hears what she says, had she slapped Lady Catelyn across the face she could not have hurt her more than she does with these words. Her mother draws back tears in her eyes and looks around the clearing for support, Great Jon Umber makes to rise to her defence but the wolf in front of him leans in to his face and he finds himself sitting once again in silence. To her credit Catelyn manages to hold her composure as they leave the woods, tears threaten to fall from her eyes but she does not wipe them away or let them fall. Several people help Sansa back onto her cot and carry it back to the King Robb’s solar, the wolves go with them, having paired up with their chosen Northerners they do not leave them and follow them as they attend to their duties in the Keep. Although it is a strange and new experience for them; the low born northerners along with the highborn ones each get a wolf and find themselves getting used to the huge furry presence as they go back to their duties throughout the camp.

 

 


	11. Sansa's Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I'm travelling in Europe and staying in hostels and the internet connection is sporadic at best, I actually finished this chapter about three days ago on my laptop but this was the first time I was able to connect to the internet. I had to keep rewriting this chapter because I wanted to do the scene in my head justice on the page. I've envisioned Sansa as being strong and terrifying like Lara Croft in Tomb Raider only instead of guns she has wolves, everyone sees her as a broken little girl and they have no idea how terrifying she can be. Enjoy!

  
  
Sansa had called a meeting with Robb and the immediate family; they had a lot to talk about, she was angry. It was not the constant anger at the world that Sandor Clegane had had; that helped him to hack away at opponents on the training field or could only be mildly sated with copious amounts of Dornish red. Nor was she the petty sort of angry that Joffrey used as an excuse for his acts of vile cruelty, she refused to be the vindictive sort of angry that Cersei was; ripping the country apart because she hated her husband Robert and was angry at having been born a woman and desperately wanted her father's approval. Cersei had had her reasons for hating her husband, she called her relationship with her brother true love but Sansa had often seen Lancel and Cersei together, she had even passed him as he came from her room one afternoon when Sansa was on her way there, Cersei's solar had smelt of musk and sweat, then she had had a little smile of triumph as she made Sansa kiss her hand, Sansa tried not to breath as she brought her face over the hand, trying not to think about where it had been, what it smelled of and trying not to inhale.  
  
Lord Tyrion didn't get angry, watching him was an education in how to take life’s bows; he was always the butt of other people's jokes so he got in there first. His sharp wit was far more entertaining than anything anyone else had ever said at court but he was still looked down on by his family, he had every reason to be angry and resentful but he somehow wasn't. Of course she was biased in her affection for Lord Tyrion, everyone else did nothing, said nothing at Joffrey's cruelty; but he did, well he _and_ Sandor. He had her moved to the tower of the Hand, had wildling women from the Vale’s Mountain clans guarding her every day, gave her a key to the Keep's library; a place women were never supposed to go, it became her secret sanctuary where Joffrey’s knights could never find her. He had helped as best he could and gave her books to improve her learning, she still remembered how his face had gone white with rage when he had asked nonchalantly if she still got lessons from her Septa and she told him of Septa Mordane's fate. Tyrion was a good man he just never had a chance to shine as one until war started, which was really rather sad. It seems that the best qualities of men only shone out in the darkness of others' abominable cruelties, there was such a similarity between Sandor and Tyrion, it was a pity they didn't get along.  
  
"Before we begin I need to know if there were any messages for me, I sent several at the last rookery we were near and I need to know if there were any responses." This was the first time anyone had been around Sansa when she was totally lucid and alert so her mother was a little shocked at her formal and authoritative manor.  
  
"I am sure the Maestor would have told us if there were any messages dear, I will have to check with him, who were you writing to?" Sansa flinched at the endearment her mother used, she was not a child and they needed to stop seeing her as such.  
  
"Have him bring any messages to me directly, what news have you had from the Wall?" She acted like she was the chairperson of a small council meeting, not a daughter reunited with her mother, brother and uncles.  
  
"We've had a few Ravens about a wildling army gathering but we do not have the resources to send help at present." Robb smiled again in that infuriating way; like she was his little sister playing dress up, it left a bitter taste in her mouth to see him still so capable of easy smiles, her face remained emotionless and still, a mask that never gives away her thoughts.  
  
"Before you were a king, you were acting Warden of the North while our father was Hand to the King in King's Landing, the last thing he trusted you with was Wardenship of the North." She tries hard to make her voice not angry or accusing, to make it matter of fact with a hint of sadness, she sighs and continues; "Jon is your heir, Tyrion sent a lot of people to the Wall when he became Hand of the King and for a ticket back to King's landing they would be more than willing to kill a Stark even if his last name is Snow in the hopes it would get them home, have you stayed in communication with him? Have you warned him, sent anyone to guard him, are you sending him any sort of cyphered messages? Because I'm worried about his safety."  
  
Lady Catelyn stiffened at the mention of Jon Snow and her brother Edmure spoke up partially on her behalf. "As I understand it Jon Snow is a bastard Sansa and has no claim to your brother’s throne, there are subtleties to the laws of inheritance which you may not understand-"  
  
"I understand perfectly well the laws of succession in this country uncle, I have read numerous texts on the Blackfyre rebellion in the Red Keep. You may not be aware of it but during the first days of King Joffrey’s reign several of King Robert’s illegitimate children were killed; one was a new born baby girl, daughter to a prostitute in Flea Bottom, the Gold Cloaks cut the babe’s throat in front of his mother and several other working girls and children. Joffrey and Cersei thought nothing of having these children killed for them if it could save them work in the future. Tywin as her Father taught her everything she knew. All Robert's bastards in King's Landing are dead, there are probably a few in the rest of the Seven Kingdoms but none of them were valued like Jon was, none of them ate with their Father's Bannermen in their Father's family seat. The way Jon was raised, embraced by all the members of our family, his resemblance to Father; all of these things make him a target for the Jonas Slynts of this world- he's the one that killed the baby, Tyrion exiled him to the Wall as soon as he took power." She added at the end of this speech, there is real emotion in her words as she talks of Jon. “It doesn’t matter if Jon can never inherit your crown the idea that killing him may get a pardon from a life sentence would be enough incentive for these men”  
  
"I didn't think of it that way Sansa, you are right, with Bran and Ricken dead I have to name an heir and I suppose that should be Jon." Robb has a frown as he thinks on this, in truth he had been thinking it for a while with both Arya and Sansa in the hands of their enemies it was not safe for him to name them as his heirs.  
  
"No Robb," Lady Catelyn cannot stay silent, the honour of her family seat, her daughter disinherited for a bastard, she could not, would not allow it. "Sansa should be your heir, she is the next legitimate heir now."  
  
"Women inheriting such things is awkward, it would not be she who rules but her husband." Robb replied.  
  
"Put it to your Bannermen, Talissa may already be with child but children take time to grow and as you insist on leading the charge in every battle you are going to get yourself killed sooner rather than later and you need to write out a clean line of inheritance and right of succession, you cannot leave your people in the same mess Robert left the Seven Kingdoms in." Jon nodded his head at what she said, she smiled and mused; his Bannermen crowned him; the son of Eddard Stark and the grandson of Hoster Tully as King of the North and the Trident, the Northerners may accept Jon as their King but the Riverlord's would not accept a Northern Bastard as Robb's successor and it would only be a matter of time before one of them suggested that Sansa, although a woman, would be the better choice, her mother had just said as much. Thus she would save herself from being sold into marriage, there was precedent, there was King Genry VIII who had been too paranoid to allow his siblings to wed for fear that their children would claim his throne from him as he had failed in producing any healthy heirs of his own. For the integrity of the crown Sansa would convince them that marrying her before Robb had a healthy number of successors would be dangerous, Sandor was her husband, she would stay faithful to him by keeping herself out of the reach of every other grasping Lord. She would not be given to a Frey for fear of offending Walder Frey the way poor Genna Lannister was. At the same time keeping her Bannermen happy depended on them not knowing the truth about her and Sandor’s relationship. Taking a deep breath, she continued her line of questioning.  
  
 "How exactly did you manage to become betrothed to an unnamed daughter of a River Lord whose second son is married to Genna Lannister, sister to Tywin Lannister?" There is an uncomfortable silence punctuated by everyone shifting uncomfortably in their seats, they were expecting this to be a loving reunion with a little girl who loved songs and laughter, not a war council meeting.  
  
"It was complicated Sansa, we needed to cross their bridge and the Freys had refused to answer the call when their Liege Lord gave it so we had to negotiate with them." Catelyn shifts uncomfortably at the memory, Walder Frey in his dirty, dank hall that smelt of chicken soup refusing to stand to greet her using his old age and infirmity as an excuse while he looked down on her and made her barter her children like they were cattle.  
  
"Did it occur to you that such a marriage arrangement could have been a ploy on his part to weaken Robb's claim to the North? Father was the first warden of the North to marry a Southern woman in several generations, the Northern lords must be feeling quite discontent at the thoughts of another southerner being the mother to their future leader while all of them have shown tremendous loyalty to House Stark and share no family ties with house Lannister: they will all have been highly displeased that Robb would have had a Frey as his queen." It hadn't occurred to Lady Catelyn that this could have been such a complicated ploy by Walder Frey, she had assumed that he just wanted a daughter who would be Queen; that it had been part of a larger plan to destabilize Robb's claim to the North had not even occurred to her.  
  
"No that . . .that would be a heinous plan on his part, most likely he wanted a daughter that would be queen." She sounds unconvinced by her own words.  
  
"I see, how did it come about that the betrothal ended?" She does not look at Robb but at her uncles and her mother for an explanation.  
  
"Sansa we don't need to go into all of that right now, what's important is getting you better-" Sansa cut her Mother off.  
  
"Getting me better so you can arrange an advantageous marriage for me, I would like to point out at this point that I was last betrothed to the King of the Seven Kingdoms, I am one of the highest born maidens in the Land with a pedigree that goes back several thousand years and under no circumstances will I be gifted or sold for a lesser bannerman's fifteenth? Twentieth son? You will put more value on my betrothal than you put on Robb's if you want to win this war. The Tyrell's have lost Renly and their claim to the throne, an alliance with the Reach would be our best option, what communication has there been with the Tyrells? At present their army has joined the Lannister's outside King's Landing for the siege, but what they hope to gain in return is unknown, we need to open the lines of communication between them and us."  
  
"It's difficult Sansa." Her mother has the decency to look embarrassed and tells her the full story of Renly's death. Sansa sits back in the cot feeling annoyed and sorry for her mother, had she handled that situation differently she could have arrested this Lady Brienne and claimed her as Renly's murderer, she could have been hailed by Loras and Margaery for stopping a murderous female knight. That was a thought, Margaery was currently without a husband, would she marry another King?  
  
"I'm sure you did what you thought was best but the lines of communication between us and the Reach must be opened and maintained, the Tyrell army were stationed outside King's Landing two weeks ago, they have seen the effects of Melisandre's magic and will be more open to your version of events. You must write to them immediately, from what I've heard at court Mace Tyrell is head of High Garden but his Mother Lady Olenna is the true ruler; she is known as the Queen of Thorns, she is the one we need to open communications with." Silently she thinks that Lady Olenna may have more respect for a fellow matriarch like her mother. "Lady Stark should write to her and explain the circumstances, make no mention of a marital alliance just mention that I was very lucky to escape King's Landing only having witnessed several public burnings and have not been burnt too badly myself, it would also be best not to advertise too loudly that I am here in Riverrun, make it sound like I am in the North somewhere or the Eyrie. If Melisandre and Stannis have any allies left in the Riverlands then they will be coming to burn me and I'd rather avoid that at all costs." Catelyn tried taking her daughter's hand that rested on the table during this speech, to give her some comfort but she pulled away at the touch and folded her hands primly in her lap.  
  
"Sansa we can discuss affairs of state later, now we need to ask you... We need to talk about how you are." Pretending her mother hadn't spoked Sansa looked at her uncle Brynden.  
  
"I believe you lived at the Eyrie for several years, uncle, are you still in communication with anyone there?" Brynden had been feeling very uncomfortable during this entire talk, this girl was not the sweet, dutiful girl her mother had described. He had a hard time imagining this girl ever singing songs or smiling and laughing, he could only imagine the horrors she had been through to affect this change, they had all heard Clegane’s stories of her being mistreated and the horrors of Stannis's rule. Silently he feels she needs to stop treating her mother so coldly, it is not fair, poor Cat has lost a husband, two sons, a daughter and her Father in the last two years, her pain must be all consuming but then he realised Sansa lost her youth and innocence as well as a Father and three siblings and he wondered if anyone gave her any comfort in her grief as Cat was given in hers and his expression softened.  
  
"Yes I lived there for many decades; in between wars, what would you like to know?" Brynden asked respectfully.  
  
"What has Lysa Arryn contributed to the war? Why has the Eyrie stayed out of it? I had the words Family, Duty Honour hammered into me at a young age, did she not?"  
  
"Lysa is," he searches for a kind way to answer her, "Lysa has let us down in many ways, she rarely responds to the ravens that we send, she refused to let any of her Bannermen answer the young wolf's call and she has not contributed any food or arms to the war, when she does write it is only to lament the number of refugees from the Riverlands and threatens us that she will close the mountain pass to the Eyrie so no more will be getting in. Jon Arryn would be spinning in his grave at the way she is running the Vale. I have had messages from a few old friends and they are all the same, she will ruin the Vale before that boy is of age to rule it, if he ever is."  
  
"Would the Lords of the Vale even recognise his right to rule when he is of age? Watching your liege Lord suckle at his Mother's teat-" She is interrupted by her Mother's gasp "-when he is ten years old hardly instils the Lords declarant with a sense of trust or respect in his leadership abilities."  
  
"While that is true I don't think any of them would purposefully overthrow him, he is he rightful heir after all." Brynden answered although it was clear he had his misgivings, Sansa nodded to this statement but she clearly disagreed with his summarisation of the circumstances.  
  
"How did Robb's marriage to Talisa come about? You still have not told me." Edmure now looks at his nephew with a cheeky grin, she looks so much like his older sister Cat it is hard not to think of her as such.  
  
"Robb fell in love Sansa." Edmure says with a smile as everyone else in the room is still trying to find the words.  
  
"What does that mean exactly?" Robb has the decency to look embarrassed and not for the first time she sees her mother grimace at a painful memory.  
  
"It was my fault, I had just heard about Theon's betrayal and about Bran and Ricken and I took advantage of her, it was the only honourable thing to do." Sansa gives him the cold calculating stare that she learnt from Stannis Baratheon where she remains silent and waits for them to speak and incriminate themselves further. "I took her maidenhead-" his mother gasps and tries to interrupt him but his sister's cold stare is having the desired effect. "It was the only honourable thing I could do."  
  
Sansa sighed and put her head in her hands in dismay, she had heard a rumour of such but to hear the reality of it was devastating. "How could you let this happen?" She looks not at her brother but at her uncles. "You crowned him King but he was not yet a man fully grown, how could you let him break his vow, dishonour himself in this way."  
  
"I did not dishonour myself, I-" Robb is indignant and now standing in his anger.  
  
"You broke a vow Robb, a sacred vow to wed another, you will go down in history as an oath breaker, why couldn't you have kept her as your mistress? Like every other King in history has done?" She doesn't sound angry but disappointed, a much more affective emotional display for manipulating these people she believes.  
  
"I could not dishonour Talisa like that, she deserved better." Sansa just looks at him sadly and then turns again to her uncles.  
  
"You are men who know of men's ways and the ways of war, you should have anticipated this, my own father needed someone when he was on campaign when he had lost family and was away from home in war times, you should have anticipated your King's needs." Lady Catelyn is now seething, why was Sansa constantly bringing up her family’s shame; Jon Snow. He had been a thorn in her side since Ned brought him back from the rebellion. Why, now that he was at the Wall and far away was his existence suddenly so important to her?  
  
"Sansa no one could have anticipated how this would turn out, it has happened and blaming each other will accomplish nothing." Sansa had been careful that her tone contained no reproach or blame it had just been matter of fact and honest, to her secret delight both of her uncles are now shifting uncomfortably on their seats in what she hopes is guilt.

“You broke the vow you made to the Freys Robb, it was badly done.” Robb’s face went red with anger and he had a mind to cancel the meeting but Sansa was going to tell them her Plan, ever since Clegane had given him those documents he’d been trying to find a way out of the mess but now finally they were going to hear Sansa’s Plan.

 

******************* 

 

The Great Hall of Riverrun

 

 

The Hall is large, the Northern men with their wolves sit on nearly half the benches but the Southern Lords who make up nearly half their numbers take up less space, sitting as far away from the wolves as they can. Not all the Northmen that have wolves are lords, some of them were just men at arms, stable boys and women who went south with the army. They had followed her to the Weirwood that morning because of the stories of her strange magic, they all took the wolves following them to mean that they should attend this meeting so they did even though it was really just for the bannermen that it had been called.  
  
Sansa sits poised and regal in her chair at the head of the room, silently watching the people before her. Those who follow the Southern Gods will not approve of what she does next; the southern gods look upon such control of animals as black magic but she cares not for them, the Southern Gods did nothing to help her in King’s landing but the Northern Gods made her theirs. The North must be held; her people must be safe. Her hair is its original deep auburn but there are two streaks of white at the front; pulled back from her face in two neat braids which give a striking contrast as the red and white streaks are interwoven together. When everyone is seated the wolves that are interspersed among the northerners begin to howl in a long, woeful lament until she raises a hand and they all, all twenty odd of them fall silent in unison.  
  
"Would the representatives of house Frey: Walder Frey, commonly called Black Walder and his companion step forward." Sansa calls; there was a marital alliance planned between houses Frey and Stark, the men are here to negotiate another alliance for Lord Edmure Tully's hand, since her unexpected arrival many have wondered if Lady Sansa's hand would also be offered as a compensation for Robb’s oath breaking.

  
The two weaselly looking men step forward and bow, they are not humble enough, do not bow deeply enough, they are not respectful enough when standing before the Princess of the north and their features show that they almost have contempt for her but she gives them a warm and inviting smile at their bow.

  
"Your service to the North and the Trident will not be forgotten, my brother King Robb has decided to knight you both and pay you honours for House Frey's _unquestionable_ loyalty." Robb sits forward at this, his face is not as carefully trained as Sansa's at hiding emotion. "Please take your seats and we shall discuss the great future of House Frey momentarily." These men are common and vulgar individuals, not knowing what to say they give clumsy bows and walk back to their seats, utterly bewildered by the young Princess's statement.

  
"Before I begin I want you to know I love you all, you are my people, your families have been Bannermen to my family for generations; some going as far back as the first men, some more recent editions but I love you all and will do _anything_ to protect you and guide you in the war that is to come." Before anyone can respond or make a comment about this bewildering statement she continues with; "However… there are people amongst are ranks who have not shown true loyalty to house Stark. This person has been actively trying to bring down house Stark and all of its Bannermen in the most heinous of ways." She grants herself a quick look at Lord Bolton who is looking at the Frey men with murder in his eyes, like many other northern Lords he had gone to the Godswood with her entourage, he had thought it a complete waste of time but did not want to miss anything of import related to Lady Sansa he is now getting worried about why he seemed to have two wolves following him instead of one like the other northerners.

  
"Lord Bolton will you please step forward and tell us your side of the matter." He looks around the room at the other Lords, ‘illiterate fools the lot of them’ he thinks, he had been encouraging Karstark to get revenge for his sons for months, encouraged Robb in his pursuit of a disadvantageous marriage, he laid so many plans, where had he gone wrong? Surely the Freys, who had more reason to hate Robb Stark than anyone would not have betrayed him? He rises from his seat with his back straight and his head held high. He is every bit as good as the Starks, his family is as old as theirs, the Dreadfort is as old as Winterfell, he will not beg for mercy, but they will have lost his men and his support if they do this.

  
"Princess Sansa I must admit to being at a loss, I have no idea of what you speak of." The wolves in the Hall immediately start barking and growling at these words. Sansa merely sits calmly and lets the noise in the Hall become nearly unbearable before she raises a hand and all of the wolves go silent in unison. Though many are now circling Bolton, their graceful bodies move around him as they lick their lips.

  
"If there is one thing I cannot stand Lord Bolton it is liars; you are going to die today." If anyone had any doubts they are now gone. "The Freys have proven their loyalty, the Frey wife you took will be granted the Dreadfort as long as she keeps the name of Frey and casts off the name Bolton, your vile son Ramsey will be killed, your men will pledge allegiance once again to my brother the king of the North or suffer the same fate as you and the name Bolton will die with you. There will never be another Bolton in the North, the sigil of the flayed man will be destroyed and forgotten, your name will become synonymous with stories parents tell their children about hobgoblins. But I am giving you a chance,” She paused for effect to let the weight of her words sink into all of those in the hall, “these will be your last words; you can die telling the truth or die with lies on your lips, it is up to you." The Lords in the hall are looking around in confusion and there is a low controlled growl coming from the wolves as they all wait with anticipation to hear what he has to say for himself. He looks from her to her brother whose face betrays that this entire conversation unnerves him and he is looking at the Princess with fear in his eyes, fear? Yes, fear for she has control over feral beasts and the young king was raised in the religion of the Seven.

  
"It seems that you truly have an unholy ability to commune with beasts, how will the Southern Lords feel about such demonic behaviour?" He needed to buy time, to be the voice of reason.

  
"You Roose Bolton did conceive of a plot so heinous that when I first heard of it, it made my stomach churn," the wolves howl assent before she silences them with another movement of her hand, again all their voices stop in unison which is somehow more terrifying to all assembled than the howling and growling; wild wolves are _meant_ to growl they are not supposed to be so controlled by a chit of a girl. "You conceived of a plot which broke the aws of men and gods, you tried to sell your vile plan to Walder Frey with the backing of Tywin Lannister. The plan was that Lord Frey would invite our army to The Twins for a _wedding_ , that he would have tents set up and ply his guests with wine bought with Lannister blood money, then the tarpaulins would all be cut down trapping the loyal Northern and River Lords inside, at which point they; unarmed and the worse for drink would be skewered alive by the Bolton soldiers, in direct violation of _every_ law of guest rights." The hall erupts as the lords’ rage and shout in indignation, rage and disbelief. "The guests in the High Hall would not be spared either as they; unarmed sit to dinner and are shot with crossbows from the musicians above them. Do you deny that you were part of the planning of such a plot with Tywin Lannister?" Bolton says nothing, ‘Frey has betrayed him that weasel bastard’ he thinks. Lady Sansa continues to speak, she is the embodiment of poise and regality.

  
"Do you deny that you have been actively spreading discord amongst our ranks by encouraging certain bereaved bannermen to take the law into their own hands and kill certain Lannister prisoners we have in our custody." Lord Karstark’s eyes widen and he has to bite his tongue hard to keep himself from shouting out. He would never have done it, Roose had sometimes spoken to him when he was well in his cups and he had been mighty tempted once but then Lady Catelyn had let the Kingslayer go . . .but Roose had told him about those other boys, those distant cousins of Tywin's and every night in his cups his blood boiled, but he would not have betrayed his King's orders, surely Princess Sansa knew that?

  
"Might an accused man be allowed to ask what proof you have to support these claims?" A wolf trots over to Clegane's lurking figure, his arms are crossed and he is leaning unobtrusively against a pillar, he had remained unnoticed during the proceedings until now, the wolf picks up the saddle bag at his feet and Bolton recognises it from that first day, that's why Clegane insisted the King take charge of it, his face, if possible goes paler. Inside the bag is the document from Tywin offering him Wardenship of the North and two bags of gold in Lannister red leather with an embellishment of a lion on the front, one thing you could always count on with Tywin Lannister was his lion embellishments. The wolf brought the bag to Ser Brynden who took out the items for everyone to see.

  
(What had truly transpired was that Clegane and she met the messenger a few days before getting to riverrun, Clegane recognized him as a prized Lannister soldier and not the impoverished sell sword he and his party were pretending to be so her wolves feasted on them and they discovered the documents when going through the bodies, Sansa was sure some divine force had guided them that day.) The paper is delicately taken from Ser Brynden’s fingers by Grey Wind and brought to Maege Mormont who peruses it and passes it along to Lord Umber, a Riverlord, impatient for his turn leans over his shoulder to read it too. Sansa is careful with all of her wording to imply that the only reason she knows of the plot is because of the Freys.

  
"Tywin sent that contract to the Twins for your perusal Lord Bolton, Walder Frey continues to please us with his work on behalf of the crown." Roose can see his goose is cooked, his men outside follow him because he pays them, the more senior soldiers knew of the plot and had felt no apprehension at disregarding guest rights or betraying their King, they would turn cloak just as quickly on him. Clegane steps forward then and starts disarming him, taking his sword from its sheath and his flaying knife from its inner pocket.  
  
"I see now how you have managed to tame the Lannister Hound, a great beast just like your wolves, I wonder what you had to do to tame him?” His voice ha a suggestive tone meant to embarrass her, “I am left no recourse but to demand trial by combat, will you be choosing one of the Northerners as your champion or your hound?" With his dying breath he will damage her as much as he can, people were already wondering what relationship there was between the Hound and the Princess, what payment had he demanded for his loyalty?

  
"Grey Wind is our champion, Clegane was just making sure you were as armed as the wolf is." Clegane steps back into the shadows as the Direwolf stalks forward. In a flash Roose sees it all, if Frey had delivered the incriminating document then he would have sent it with his sons who are looking quite bewildered at this change of events, this is not the boy king’s doing, he is too _honourable_ and not nearly sly enough, he would never think of turning the tides like this, he looks again at the thin, sickly, beautiful, regal girl before him and smiles.

“My only regret your grace is that I will not be able to see what you will become, I thought your taming of the Lannister Hound was impressive but now I see… The Seven Kingdoms surely lost greatly when they lost you as their monarch, you would have been a queen truly worthy of the name, unlike some.” His eyes drift with disdain to Talisa but Sansa remains unmoved. “I remember seeing you in Winterfell; a pretty girl with barely a serious thought in her head, how far you have come, I’m sure your Father would have been proud of you.” With his dying breath he wants to wipe that calm smile off her face and shake her resolve.

“Trying to second guess the dead is waisted energy Lord Bolton, my Father died with a lie on his lips so I would not be tortured, I was tortured; mentally, emotionally, physically. I will carry the scars of King Joffrey’s reign forever, just like the scars of King Stannis’s reign but they taught me well, all the people that beat me, mistreated me and burnt me; they taught me that I won’t be safe, my people will not be safe until _all_ our enemies are dead.”

Bolton gave a sad sigh of regret, “I wish I had met you sooner, together we could have ruled the north.” There is a strange look of pride as he considers her in these his final moments, she had been the victim; the pawn, with her by his side her brother may actually have a chance of keeping his crown. Roose does not try to plead, he could reveal all but he just smiles placidly as his sentence is carried out, Grey Wind doesn't go for the throat as he usually would instead he bites every limb until he hears a satisfying snap and then leans over the prone and broken body and with a single bite of his massive jaws he breaks off the head from the neck and finally the death screams end and he brings the head to Sansa who has watched the whole event with a terrifying air of serenity about her. She pets the wolf's head as she takes the head from its jaws and holds it up for all assembled to see as his blood drips down her arms and onto her dress. The hall is filled with people watching in horror and awe as the remains of the man are ripped apart and devoured by the other wolves and the sweet girl with the face of an angel holds his head aloft for all to see.

  
"Brother," she addresses her King in an overly familiar tone but no one dares complain. "Now would be a good time to reward the Frey household for their loyalty to the crown." The two Freys nearly turn and run at the mention of their names, obviously both are confused, had their father betrayed Bolton and never told them? They are beckoned forth by the Lady's sweet smile and with no choice they approach, Robb Stark already has his Father’s sword out, Black Walder already knows what’s coming though his brother is clueless, they kneel in the Bolton's blood before the Princess and the King who holds out his Valerian sword Ice but to Black Walder's surprise he does not take their heads but Knights them both and Princess Sansa makes a gift to them of one of the bags of Lannister Gold she had. Confused, they accept the honours and rise dutifully, Roose Bolton’s blood staining the front of their trousers from the knees down. Roose Bolton's cold dead eyes staring at them from the Princess Sansa's lap.  


  


 ***********************

Earlier  


  
"Robb whatever I say to the Lords in the Great Hall you must back me up."

  
"Bolton deserves to stand trial and show the world his treachery if it is true, which I have my doubts about, he has been one of my most loyal supporters." Robb had grown so much in recent years but he did not know how to play the Game of Thrones, he would kill Bolton and lay siege to the Twins losing two armies of allies and making two armies of enemies.  


"Robb if you follow my plan then the Freys will remain our allies, not because they want to but because they have to, we will so publicly and officially pronounce them the saviours of your rebellion that Tywin will make it his mission in life to destroy them. We thereby make Tywin's greatest ally his greatest enemy, the Freys who are here will not know if I speak truth; if this is all part of their father's plan, they will play along with being knighted by you and paid honours as well as gold for their deeds, the proclamation that their sister will be the heiress to the Dreadfort as soon as they assist us in killing Ramsey and taking it; it will all make it seem arranged, the spies in the Great Hall will report to-"

  
"What makes you think there are spies in the Great Hall?" The Great Hall is filling with all of the people that they have had summoned as they speak in the solar.

  


"Always assume that there are spies; serving women, guards. Every one of my lady's maids in King's Landing was reporting back to Cersei about me, the Great Hall of Riverrun is no different. You've heard of the Spider? He is called such because he sits at the centre of a web; spread across Westeros like a net, he hears everything and is aware of every movement in Westeros because of his spy network. We cannot take back the North from the Iron born without the Bolton army, we need Bolton men but not Bolton, we bring his lieutenants into the main room with him, under each of them are a few hundred men each, they can bend the knee after we've dealt with Bolton or support their dead master and join him in the grave, which do you think they'll choose?"  
  
“What you’re suggesting, Sansa you have been living for a long time with Clegane in the wilderness, he has influenced you in this I know, it is not honourable what you suggest." Sansa flinches at the word.

  
" _Honour_ is a concept people made up by people, like truth and valour and justice it is a pretty story we tell our children to make them believe the world can be a better place than what it is, but it is a story none the less, knights murder babies and rape their mothers with the babes’ blood still wet on their hands, highlords give the orders for these atrocities but never dirty their own hands with the blood of their victims, queens conceive babes through incest and deceitfulness but their bastards still sit on thrones for two years unhindered, free to reign terror on their subjects, the gods do not step in to fix these injustices as we were told they would as children, the injustices are allowed to linger and fester upon our world while the innocent suffer the wrongs brought upon them by their _betters_.  My goal is to save our people and end this war as quickly as possible, ending this war is all that matters so we can prepare for the war that is to come. _That_ is all that matters. As for honour, you may be _honourable_ brother, the history books may remember you as such and you can blame _all_ the dishonourable deeds of this war on your unruly sister if it sits better with your conscience and your bannermen but this is the only way to punish the Freys and the Boltons while winning this war."

“What happened to you? How can you be so cold?” There is pain in his eyes as he asks.

“I spent nearly two years as the whipping girl of our Father’s murderer, did you really think I would still sing pretty songs and believe in happy endings after that? Did you think I would be the same girl I was? They _beat_ the songs out of me Robb, they stripped away all the lies of my childhood until I saw the world for what it truly was; they forced me to grow up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roose Bolton's death seems quite similar to Ramsey's but honestly I'd imagined it that way before I saw that episode, hope you liked it! All feedback is appreciated!
> 
> Also the story of King Genry VIII is a reference to King Henry viii and King George III of England who held back on arranging marital alliances for their children and siblings for various reasons but the important one, I felt, was that if you marry your child to a foreign King then that King's children have a claim to your throne which is a future dilemma best avoided. This is a political situation many don't address in their fanfiction: if Robb dies without an heir Sansa can be queen and whoever her husband is would immediately be King and outrank her. This makes her both a valuable commodity and liability to Robb's reign, he cannot allow her to marry and at the same time must avoid offending his banner men by refusing their offers.


	12. The Ice Queen

Chapter 13

Sansa was ice, she was unfeeling, unrepentant, she held no remorse. They carried her from the Great Hall in her cot past all the Lords and Bannermen, Roose Bolton's head still in her lap, his blood causing a spreading stain on her dress and she could feel the still warm liquid seeping through the grey fabric and onto her thighs. She was ice, she showed no emotion, she handed the head to one of the stable boys and in a clear, unbroken voice that she was quite proud of told him to display it on the walls. The boy would be talking about that moment for the rest of his life, the day the Queen of Ice singled him out of hundreds of men for this historic task. She was ice, she showed no emotion, Sandor helped to carry the cot along with three other men to her chambers, she dismissed the other men and told Sandor to stay, they had hesitated but the look in her eyes along with the blood still on her dress made them obey.

As soon as the door closed behind them she collapsed in tears and Sandor was there; holding her and stroking her back in a reassuring way. Her sobs became the frantic sobs of someone who can't breath and she buried her face in his tunic and wept, wept for her lost innocence, for the death of Sansa Stark; the innocent girl that had been, she was not innocent anymore nor would anyone ever think she was, he had told her it didn't matter what other people thought but she had corrected him. Of course it mattered, she needed to be strong, to be so vicious and brutal that no one would think of betraying her family again, she had to make a show of Bolton for her family, for Winterfell, for the North and for herself.

It was nearly a quarter of an hour before her mother joined her in her room to see the disturbing scene, the hurt on her Mother's face was instantaneous; Sansa wouldn't even let her Mother hold her hand but she allowed this man to embrace her, allowed herself to let down her walls around this hound.

"Sansa you should not be alone with-" She began to chastise her daughter at the lack of propriety.

Sansa lifted her tear stained face and gave her mother the same expressionless mask she had been giving her since she woke up. "Sandor is my sworn shield, I've been alone with him for two weeks in the wilderness, a few minutes now hardly makes any difference to the reputation I'm making for myself."

"Out of necessity, you were alone together but you are back with your family now-" Sansa looked away and her jaw clenched like she was biting back something, "-and such familiarity is no longer appropriate."

Too tired and sore to have this argument Sansa looked back at her mother and replied; "Roose Bolton's Blood is all over me, I need to change, please send for my handmaidens."

"Of course, we'll get rid of the dress-"

"No, this dress is a symbol of the North's strength, it shows what will happen to those who may betray us, it will not be washed, Bolton's blood will stay on it as a warning of what happens to traitors, I'll wear it thus on special occasions." Her mother was struck speechless with horror, surely she wasn't serious, no one would willingly wear a dress soiled with a man's lifeblood, but her face was hardened as if by stone and Catelyn looked to the monstrous giant kneeling next to her. He had raised his eyes in surprise at this statement and then sat back on his heels.

"It would certainly give any Lannister spokesmen pause for thought to be met by you looking like that." Sandor admitted grudgingly, she smiled at that and it broke her mother's heart a little more, why did she smile at him and not at her?

"Can you imagine the look on Lord Tyrion's face if he saw me dressed thus? He'd probably have ten quips ready in four minutes, something like 'wolfish grins' and 'blood will out'." She laughed but it was a sad laugh, there was no mirth in it. Clegane looked to Lady Catelyn who was still standing there in shock at the exchange and he rose to leave."If you are feeling well enough Sandor, I would have you take up duties as my sworn shield again as the Stark men have proven so completely ineffective." Sansa now had her Lady's voice, having cried her heart out she could put up her walls to protect herself once more. 

He bowed to acquiesce, "Unfortunately my Lady I have been disarmed and am not allowed to carry any weapons in Riverrun under The King's orders." 

"My protective brother's orders, very well I will talk to him." He took his leave and left Mother and daughter alone to talk.

Sansa was tired and weak, her whole body ached from the punishing pace they had had set to get to Riverrun, the pain in her leg was so excruciating she felt like she was going to be sick but she couldn't risk taking any milk of the poppy, it was her mind that controlled the ravenous wolves, she needed it to be sharp and lucid as she led them out of the camp, it gave her a headache to be both awake and talking in a chair while her mind was brushing against the minds of 27 wolves; urging them to leave the camp and continue going. She could not risk them eating Stark men no matter how delectable their flesh seemed to the canines' nose. She needed to keep them safe from each other but her mother obviously wasn't going to leave her in peace.

"Sansa it is not appropriate for you to be alone in your bed chambers with such a man, his reputation alone is-" Her mother began again.

"Are these my bed chambers? I understood I was moved from them in the night after Sandor's instructions for my safety were not followed and my life was put in unnecessary danger again." She frames it like a question though she is perfectly aware of the answer, Lady Catelyn looks away in embarrassment and begins again.

"You are right, his stories of your ordeals since King's Landing seemed fantastical and none of us took them seriously, we were wrong to do so, but we know what to do now and loyal Stark men can protect you."

"He can protect me, that way the busy Stark men don't have to be dragged from their important duties for a little girl and you don't have to waist a jail cell on him."

"Don't be silly,there are many men here who would be honored to protect the King's sister." She smiles reassuringly but her smile wavers at Sansa's glare.

"Really?" There is a false joviality to Sansa's voice that immediately puts her mother on edge, "There would be men in this camp happy to protect me? I wonder where they were the for the last two years that I was a captive of my Father's murderers? It took two men, just two to steal me from King's landing and neither of them had any allegiance to House Stark so I must ask where were these brave, loyal men to my brother when I was suffering?" Her mother inhales and tries to find the words, how do you explain the complexities of war to a sixteen year old angry girl, so angry, she has never seen Sansa so angry she seems to radiate her own heat. "Don't bother I know where they were, I know exactly how much my safety mattered to King Robb his North men and Lady Stark but Sandor Clegane cared about my safety, even before I got him out of the Black Cells he always tried to protect me as much as he could without raising Joffrey's ire, you may put stark men guarding me if you wish but he will also be guarding me." Her voice was authoritative and invited no argument but then she allowed herself to soften; too tired and sore to hold on to her anger. "Please, I'm very tired and in a lot of pain, I don't want to argue with you anymore, he knows how to protect me, has selflessly protected me for years, not just the last two weeks, I just want to rest but if he is not on guard then I know I will not be able to sleep peacefully, I'll be too worried about all the things and people that will be coming for me." She lets every bit of her weariness , fear and desperation show on her face and in her stance, a calculated move, an exaggerated portrayal of what she really feels but she needs her mother to leave before she says something she regrets. 

Relenting Lady Catelyn nods and leaves the room as the Lady's maids enter and see to her washing, she is too tired and it is to difficult to arrange another bath so they let her sit in her char while they wash off all the blood as she stays seated, staining the basin of water pink every time they wring out the cloths. It turns Sansa's stomach to see it but she forces herself to stare straight ahead. 'I am ice' she tells herself, 'I feel no remorse, I feel no pain, I feel no regret, ice does not cry, ice does not let her feelings show.' She repeats this mantra to herself over and over as they scrub the traitor's blood from her thighs and remove her stockings and small clothes for disposal, too stained to be saved, one of them moves to take the dress away but Sansa stops her, giving the order that the dress is never to be washed or altered, the stain is always to remain on it and she has the trembling maid hang it up on the screen in full view of anyone who enters the room, the offending red stain turns a rusty brown as they wash her and their hands tremble as they touch this terrifying woman who would take joy in wearing the blood of her enemies.

 

******

In the Hallway Sandor Clegane is leaning against an opposite pillar looking bored, he has an eye on the men guarding the room and the passageways in both directions but to the casual observer he looks nonchalant and uncaring. He stands to attention as Lady Catelyn exits the bedroom, she is ever bit the highborn Lady he remembers she was in Winterfell and she still looks at him with distaste. 

"Sandor Clegane, my daughter; Princess Sansa has requested that you remain her sworn shield and guard her rooms, I would talk to you privately in my solar about these duties." He nodded assent at these words and followed her to the room next to Sansa's, taking one last glance down the hallways before leaving. When they are settled in the room Lady Catelyn asks him the questions most important to her. "Has there been anything improper going on between you and Sansa?" He finds himself staring at her in shock, that's what she asks? Nothing about the sorcery, the torture, the fact that he betrayed the family he had been sworn to for seventeen years, her main concern is their activities together? "Sansa is a great Lady and will one day marry a great Lord, her name would be besmirched if there was anything improper between the two of you and even if there was not," her voice sounds doubtful, "rumors can be as damaging to a young girl's reputation as facts." He bites back any retort about the rumors that have damaged her reputation about a certain ward of her father's taking her maiden head and brawling with Brandon stark over it.

"I was sitting in a cell for a week, chained to a wall with thirty other nobles and Knights, piss and shit everywhere-" she blanches at the uncouth words, "-waiting for that witch to choose me to be burnt to death, you can't tell the time in the black cells, no day, no night just constant blackness until they came with their torches and chose a few to take away and burn to death, a few people in my cell died from dehydration alone because they rarely bothered to feed us properly, some begged for the gift of mercy rather than be allowed to continue the wait, I didn't want to give it to them but when your half asleep and a man makes a half hearted attempt to kill you in your sleep you defend yourself," the memory is bitter, he didn't want to give the gift of mercy because the less people in the cell than the less time he had before they chose him and he didn't want to burn to death, anything but that, he knew why they were starving him and keeping him chained while others could move around the cell. They knew he would fight, he would struggle, he would force them to kill him with their swords before he let them burn him so they were making him weak first, too weak to induce his own death. "It was only a week but it felt like lot longer and then she got me out .She said it was payback for how I helped her during the bread riots, for the times I helped her when no one else would." He shrugged at the memory, "I killed atleast five men the day of the bread riots to protect her and her virtue, I killed more on the road, both humans and Reds, but I never asked her or forced to do anything improper, her reputation is beyond reproach." He speaks the truth, the first time they had sex in the grove of Weirwoods that night it was with the blessings of the Gods and every time since then, she was his wife and he her husband. It is not improper for a woman to lie with her husband and her integrity was beyond reproach in this regard.

"Why you? Why out of all the Knights in King's Landing and the Lords would she choose you as her protector?"

"Because... You should really ask her, she told me it was because I was the only one who had gone back for her during the bread riots, even the guards ordered to guard her that day were too cowardly to face a crowd of starving peasants; they ripped the High Septon limb from limb, Lady Lolas Stokeworth was raped by fifty men all lady Sansa got was a cut to her forehead and a few bruises." He tries hard to show no emotion, no one must know how much he cares for her, how he wanted to rip those men apart and make them suffer that day, how he had had to calm his rage before turning back to her, how ashamed he was. She had approached him in the corridor a few days later, looking as beautiful and tempting as ever and tried to thank him, in a sea of lies and cruelty his deed had shone out to her like a beacon of hope in the darkness and he had pulled his blade on her. It was for her own good and his, she was a terrible liar, if anyone saw her soften toward him, smile at him or in any way show less fear toward him then Joff would know, Joff would make them both suffer for it. Better that she shrink from his glare all the time than see him as any sort of protector. There was that night he found her wandering the corridor at night, luscious hair down around her waist, those slutty dresses Cersei made her wear showing off all her best attributes. She shouldn't have been wandering around like that and he needed to tell her so he'd shoved her against the wall and let her smell every bit of his wine soaked breath and told her how nicely she was filling out. Her eyes had widened in fear and he was sure she had learnt her lesson, if it had been Trant or Meryn or any other fucking knight they would have lifted her skirts and taken her there and then. He had scared her but he hadn't harmed her and she had mostly learnt her lesson.

"I didn't realize that she had been in any riots, as the King's betrothed it was your duty to protect her, I suppose?" He shook his head in the negative and she continued. "Sansa is suffering now from her ordeal but when she is recovered we will release you of your duties and you may return to serving your liege lord with our blessing." 

Sandor returned to the corridor after nodding non-comitally to this plan, he knew full well that the King's mother didn't have the authority to send him away and he wasn't going anywhere without his wife. Between the two of them Sansa and he were experts at the game, the Stark's couldn't send him away because he knew too much, had stood at the back of two many rooms where important meetings were held, as for the two of them staying together, their plan was working; keep her out of everyone else's reach. The show with the wolves was impressive but it would get more impressive with the story telling, Willas Tyrell and all the other noblemen who might consider them suitable matches for her would keep their distance; she was too dangerous and blood thirsty for the likes of those delicate pricks, atleast that's what they would think. Convincing her brother that she was his heir and her chosen husband would be King of the North should he die childless had had to be carefully done, he had to think of it as his idea, led to that conclusion by her unfailing logic. He hated the webs they had to weave, hated that he couldn't hold her in his arms and comfort her like she needed, hated how her mother looked down her nose at him, she looked so like Sansa, it was almost like being rebuked by the little bird herself. He still had his Tourney winnings, half of the winnings safely deposited with the iron bank of Bravos and half in his saddle bags; a king's ransom worth, he sighed heavily at the thought, they could run away, leave Westeros and all the rats in it to the winter and the Whitewalkers and start somewhere new.

The night he suggested that to her she was lying in his arms after they had fucked for the second time in three hours, he hadn't thought he could with all the wolves watching them with their bright yellow eyes but somehow their presence had made her bolder, more passionate and insistent in her advances. She said it was the animal instinct that they brought it out in her and she had mounted him, holding his hands down above his head as she rolled her hips over him, sheathing his cock fully inside her, he had wanted to hold her but somehow she was stronger at these times and he liked submitting to her, he liked it when she took control and made him her's, no one had ever done that before. Afterwards covered in sweat with the mix of their juices dripping down her thighs she had laid in his arms and they had talked of their future; of Essos and the free cities, the slave cities too, of how they could just go and let everyone else deal with the Night's King but she had raised herself up on her elbow and stroked his burnt cheek and his whole cheek gently with her hand before replying. 

"Yes we could be free, we could let Westeros fall and all the bad and good people with it and Essos would probably remain unharmed for generations by the Whitewalkers but how often as we raised our children and were happy in our Villa by the sea would we look to the West and wonder at what might have been?" Her words were sad and wise beyond her years and she was right, they would never really be free no matter how much they ran, if and when Westeros fell they would always look back and wonder at what might have been. As he stood in that corridor being distrustfully glared at by the other guards he knew that he would always look to the East and wonder too.


	13. Sansa's musings before sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa alone in her room tries to sleep and thinks back over her relationship with Sandor. Mostly she tries to think up ways to stop her family from selling her into another marriage because as her secret husband Sandor cannot get mad at men trying to court her.

Tossing in her bed  she let out a heavy sigh: Sansa missed Sandor, she missed how reassuring his build was, how he wrapped his arms around her and made her feel small and safe. She missed how his voice was so deep it made his chest rumble when he spoke, she missed how he spoke, other men gave her honeyed words and rehearsed compliments that were tedious to listen to but one word from him; whether it was a rebuke or a simple comment about the weather sent shivers down her spine and sent a dull ache between her legs. He didn't even seem to know what he did to her, he always seemed to think it was normal that she was wet and ready for him when he lifted her skirts. He called her things like 'wanton' and 'his' and she was in a way but underneath these couplings of passion was an underlying jealousy. He was incredibly possessive, the few times they had met people on the road he had looked at them murderously to stop them talking to her, even that night in the farmhouse with the little children he had been annoyed about how much attention she gave them and they had not even been wed then. Day by day he had made them move more slowly towards Robb's camp after the danger of a Red attack had been taken care of by the Weirwoods, he had gotten them up later every morning and had them make camp earlier every evening. When she had pointed this out to him he had used his blood lust as an excuse but the other reason, the one he would not tell her was that he didn't want their trip to end. He didn't want her King brother and her Mother and hundreds of Lords and Bannermen calling her _their_ princess. If he could he would have made that journey last for the rest of their lives. She had known this, it saddened and invigorated her to know he wanted her so much. When they found the messenger with the betrayal of the Bolton's and the Freys written out in Black and white their pace to Riverrun had increased but she saw his hesitance, they agreed to keep the marriage secret; purely because it was too complicated to explain in one sitting. After she convinced him that keeping their marriage a secret was for the best the sex had changed, he became possessive and their was a roughness to the way he took her that hadn't been there before. She had let it carry on for one night and one morning but on the second night told him to go gently, instead of him lifting her skirts and rolling her to her belly like he liked she took the lead and mounted him. Eye to eye she rode him for over an hour reaching her own peak three times before asking him why he hadn't reached his yet. He smiled at her then. It twisted his scars in a way that once would have terrified her but now made a strong warmth spread through out her chest.

  
"I don't think I can actually finish in this position." It was the first time he ever made her laugh during sex and she let him flip her over onto her back and he took her from the front this time. She liked it that way, she kissed him as he grunted and thrust into her; his movements rhythmic and displaying a strength he was holding back. For a man as strong and big as him it must be hard to be gentle and not to break her and so she took extra pleasure in it.

She had heard stories of men being cruel; Septa Mordane had told her there was little joy in a marriage bed for a woman and that she must think about the children she would bare her husband. Sansa found she could barely think when he was inside her, her mind seemed gone and there was only the physical sensations; the animal instinct for both of them to experience. It often made her forlorn to think of Septa Mordane; a woman who had never been wedded or perhaps even known the love of a man she had tied to give good advice to a young girl about what her future as a Queen would be. Sansa had come to resent liars; flatterers were included in that category and Septa Mordane, may she rest in peace, had lied to her.

"What if I only have girls? Everyone will hate me."  
"No one could ever hate you."

She shuddered at the memory, she had wanted so badly to make her mother proud; to be the queen her Kingdom would love, to bring great Honour to her house, she had been so blinded by the way things were supposed to be that she had deceived herself into not seeing them as they really were.

  
When she had children, if she could for the long night was coming, she would never lie to them she decided. She would tell them the absolute truth, she would never let them hear songs about noble Knights or honorable Prince's or Princess's getting rescued. Two years she sat around waiting to be rescued as her Father's murderer talked about how he would take her and put a son in her. Joffrey had done many things to her that were unforgivable but forcing her to lie to save her own neck was some of the worst. Words like 'love' lose their meaning when you've just been punched in the stomach and you are doubled over with pain; wondering if you'll ever be able to breath again and the only way you can defend yourself is by lying and dishonouring your brother, your mother your dead father and yourself; "Please your grace what ever my traitor brother has done I had no part in, I am loyal to you, I love only you." He had wanted her love him and to fear him and she had spat out the pretty words her Septa had taught her and done her best to survive, her tongue licked her lip where the scar was from that first slap; it was a reminder and knowing it was their strengthened her resolve now.

While she had stayed and been the perfect lady Arya had run, she didn't know where Arya was or if she was alive but she knew her sister had survived four days in the woods with Nymeria and returned safely. In her heart she believed Arya was saving herself; she used to treat Arya with disdain for not being a proper lady and if she ever got the chance she would take her sister in her arms and beg her to teach her everything she knew about rebelling which was an ability Sansa had never mastered, just as Arya had never mastered needlework. None of her daughter's would learn needle work until they learnt how to kill and skin a squirrel for their dinner which she learnt on the road was a much more useful skill, the sort of skill Arya had learnt from her Father and older brothers years earlier while Sansa had learnt how to prepare and dye threads for tapestries.

She rolled over in the huge bed, her leg giving her a painful twinge as she shifted its position. She had been warging with the wolves and travelling on her horse next to Sandor when the mountain lion attacked; she had not told him that she could occasionally hear his thoughts, it seemed far too personal a thing and she didn't want to scare him off. She knew that the reason he kept waking her in the night to have sex wasn't lust on his part: it was insecurity, he had nightmares that she was gone, that she would leave him and in his sleep he would reach out to check she was still there and then to reaffirm to himself that she was his he would take her again. She knew that in his mind he often associated her with the knight. When he was a little boy he took something that wasn't his and he burned for it, now he took her and she wasn't his and he feared what would happen. Sometimes his mind would drift, as all our minds do to some distant idea that you're not really serious about and he would contemplate slitting her throat and then his own; that way they would go together and no one would ever harm her again. He was obsessed with protecting her as well as keeping her and it was a little disturbing to see the darkness of his mind unfurl. That day they had been in a rush to reach Robb's camp because they needed to tell him of the treason but he had been dragging his heels, thinking about taking her away, trying to figure ways of getting her wolves off the scent. she knew his plans were ill conceived and reached out with her mind and that's when she found the mountain lion. No one need ever know that she coaxed it into attacking her, no one would ever find out that she maimed herself on purpose but it was necessary.

Sandor was too scared to give her back to her family; too scared of loosing her. He had to be shown that he could not protect her on his own. Her family would have likely sent Sandor away as soon as she was returned to them so they needed to see his regret and concern for her; they needed to see how much she meant to the sworn shield even if they didn't know the entirety of it. Marriage proposals would be coming in from every major family in the Trident which included many noble and honourable northern houses. She needed an excuse which would be simple and understandable and stop them from inundating her family with offers. A lame Princess is not as desirable as a whole one; she intended to play the sickly recuperating princess, n the brink of death for as long as she could, she would also wear dresses that showed off the painful burns she had received from Melissandre's sorcery hat should put a few of them off.

She knew it was hard for Sandor to hold himself in check when these men talked about selling her in to marriage, they sickened her with the way they bickered over her like she was a piece of bacon. She just hoped he would use that court face he had developed in all of his years in King's Landing to hide his true feelings; he had had some of the same visions as her of the Night King and the world covered in snow so cold it burned, he knew what was at stake an she had to have faith in him that he wouldn't lose his temper with any of them.

Rolling over in her bed she readjusted the pillow so she could sleep more comfortably, it smelled of rose water and starch; only the best laundry for a princess. It smelled wrong because all she wanted was the smell of the sweat of her man, his chest had always been the perfect pillow. Tomorrow she would deal with the after math of what she had done to  Bolton. She doubted many Southern men would want to wed her now when they all thought her guilty of witchcraft and skin changing. She still had the Northern Lords to manage but she would handle them; she would be the ice queen who warmed only to her ravenous flesh eating wolves; that should make a few of them hesitant at the thoughts of being alone with her in a wedding bed. Sleep finally claimed her and she had mostly normal dreams but many of them were nightmares of a life that could have been, of a life she had run from.


	14. Sansa has a lot of rage

The dim morning light shone through the window bringing with it a cacophony of bird song, she felt like she had only just fallen asleep when her maid came in to dress her. The inability to use lit candles or light fires around Sansa meant that she had to take advantage of every moment of sunlight she could so she was being woken earlier than most of the highborns in the castle. She wondered if Sandor was outside the door now, was he standing there thinking about her naked with other women's hands on her? She smiled at the arousing thought. Her wedding had been nothing like she had imagined, her marriage was nothing like she had imagined but then she had been so young and told so many lies about what marriage and love could be, the Hound had told her the truth.

Sometimes, though she knew it was a waist of time, she tried to imagine what her Father would think about the things she had done. She had dishonoured him so often: calling him a traitor and a usurper to save herself from more bruises a and more pain. She took some comfort from the fact that he lied that day, his last day, because he wanted to save her pain; so perhaps he would understand her continuing the lie to save herself more pain. She had spent her whole childhood afraid of getting cuts or scars, ladies do not have such things but now she was morbidly proud of them as she stood and purposefully maneuvered herself so the handmaidens each got a good look at the crisscross of marks across the backs of her legs. All the bruises had healed, the fractured and broken ribs were now in perfect working order, the fist shaped bruises on her stomach and legs were all gone; these scars were the only proof left of what she was forced to endure. Her brother had won great victories and suffered battle scars with a sword in his hand, a snarling Direwolf as his companion and an army at his back and he thought there was bravery in this; which there was.

She had no army, no Direwolf, no armour and no sword of her own but she withstood all the beatings, she was courteous and polite and displayed excellent manners that would ave made her Septa proud as she lived with her Father's murderers for two years. Robb could not have survived in the Den of Lions, nor Arya or any of their other siblings. She put on a mummer's show every day that she was there and played for her survival, very few could have maintained the pretence for as long as she did. They all looked down on her; saw her as a little girl; her mother had respect and even a say in some of Robb's decisions because she was his mother and Eddard Stark's wife but Sansa had no such respect. She was more child than woman grown when she was put into Cersei's clutches; they probably saw her as more a Lannister than a Stark now. The wolves she managed to control helped with that image problem but she needed more than their fear if she was going to rule, she needed them to love Robb and she needed to be able to control Robb. Not for the first time she felt anger bubbling up within her, "Why?WHY? WHY did Robb break his vows and marry a woman of no political advantage?" Some of it could be put down to Robb being a warg and the urges of the wolf taking control of him but most of it was his own stupidity, his own warped sense of honour. Talissa tried to be friendly and tried to create a bond with her but all she could think when she saw Talissa was how she would like to scratch the bitch's eyes out, their brothers had been murdered and mutilated and he somehow was able to get it up and fuck her despite his alleged grief! Whether he was seduced or did the seducing Sansa didn't care. His actions after the initial coupling were inexcusable and nothing like what she and Sandor had. Their bond was beyond physical or emotional she did not love him, did not desire him. She was part of him. She breathed because he reminded her to, her heart beat because his own heartbeat set the rhythm, without him she would be no more.

There was a fairytale about a Princess being cursed only to be awakened by her true love a hundred years later. Sansa had never thought much about the story, it was a fairytale; they are drenched in poetic license. What happened in the gods' wood that night was like a fairytale; with no where to run from the Reds she had unwittingly reached out to another power, an older power than fire. Ice was there first, always; in the hottest summers ice was still there on the breeze, in the shadows; letting you know it still had a hold over you. She reached out to that ice, the part of her ancestors that some would call 'Others' and others would call whitewalkers, Lyanna could not reach for this power in her darkest moment because she was brought too far South where the Weirwoods do not grow. They were winter incarnate, they feared nothing and Sansa had feared everything so through the Weirwood that night she reached out to a voice that coaxed and cajoled, in a strange way it reminded her of her Father. It was lonely; this voice and it was trapped but she could free it, it's thirst for freedom was all consuming, Sansa was tempted, sorely tempted to go with it; to be Winter incarnate and have unmatched power, to never fear anything again and never feel pain again. Sandor pulled her back from that, it had felt like a hundred years since she had been in that clearing with him surrounded by Reds but he brought her back. He bound himself to her and he still didn't understand what that fully meant. He didn't know, nor did anyone else that if he ever left her, for what ever reason she would not die but what he stopped in the Godswood would start again. Winter is coming.

When she was dressed and ready the guards outside the door, Sandor among them, carried her on her cot to Robb's solar where she was the first to arrive for the war council. She wondered if Talissa would be in attendance, she shouldn't be of course, just because she spread her legs for him didn't mean she was trustworthy. Robb came in looking tired, The Great Jon, Maege Mormont and Karstark were in attendance with a few other Northern Lords as well as her uncle Edmure and the Blackfish Tully and her Mother who gave her a worried smile, Talissa flanking her. 'Don't forget you mean nothing to them, they will abandon you again without a second thought.' She told herself as she felt her heart clench at the sight of her mother's pained face.

Robb opened the meeting; "Well yesterday was quite a revelation for all of us and I'm sure you'll agree that we hope a display like that will never be necessary again." His eyes told Sansa that what he hoped was that she wouldn't have anymore men ripped apart by wolves in the main hall, everyone was looking at her nervously.

"Keep your vows to your Bannermen and it probably won't be." There was an uncomfortable shift in the room, they were all thinking it but she was the only one brave enough to say it. Robb's face turned red but he atleast had the decency to look abashed, she wondered if she had gone too far; Myrcella would never speak to Joffrey like that.

"Yes well what was in the past is over and done, the important thing is to insure that it does not happen again." He then went through an explanation to the other members in the room as to what had really happened in the Great hall and how they had really known about the planned betrayal. The Northern Lords now looked at Sansa with a new found respect.

"So instead of us having to march on the Twins and dig Walder Frey out of his fortress Tywin Lannister will be doing it for us?" Maege's eyes gleamed at the idea, the Northern Lords were not used to deceit and trickery being used in warfare but she seemed delighted by the idea.

"It wasn't the most honourable way of dealing with the problem," Karstark said, looking Sansa straight in the eyes as if he was trying to catch her flinch or blush at the statement, apparently satisfied at what he saw in her face he continued, "But you saved all our lives and as you said; honour is for those who can afford it and you're not willing to pay the price in Northern lives." Sansa nodded at his assessment, honour was a bitter word for her after Robb and Talissa. Her eyes darted to her good sister unbidden and she met Robb's fiery gaze before returning to Lord Karstark.

"History is written by the victors, we can spin the story to sound more honourable later if you wish," Sansa could care less for the northern lords' sense of honour, they claimed to love her Father, if not for her than for him they should have marched to King's Landing, should have seeked vengeance and justice for him, "my main concern now is Walder Frey; he won't give up without a fight, he will have sent a dozen messages to Tywin and his other supporters trying to sell them his side of the story and we cannot depend on them not believing him. Whatever else he is, the oldest strategist amongst us has to be a title he deserves." There was a rumble among the men as they begrudgingly admitted this was so.

"We should take the Twins ourselves, distribute the loot and reward the Lands to a loyal Bannermen." Robb had on his King's voice which was full of authority.

"It would be a waist of arms, fighting among our own men will only weaken us, we should stick to the original plan; give the Frey men honors, grant the Dreadfort to Fat Walda Frey and have her brothers deal with the bastard of Bolton and take the Fort, naturally they should not do this unsupervised; Bolton has made a lot of money through mining over the last few years, no doubt he has deposited money with the Iron Bank and has caches of riches hidden in the Dreadfort; we need to secure these riches for the crown and the war effort, with a 10% finder's fee." As Sansa spoke Lord Karstark shifted in his seat and immediately piped up.

"No man of Honour would accept such an amount; securing that the money doesn't fall into Frey hands would be reward enough for any Northern man."

"Aye Sansa, there is no need for any of my men to be paid for such efforts." Sansa sat back and sighed, her brother was still so blindly honourable.

"I was thinking of the younger sons of certain Northern houses who have suddenly found themselves impoverished to due to Iron born raids, they're down here in the South protecting southern Lords and their lands while their own holdings are invaded." Sansa's voice was polite and gentle as she explained.

"We cannot afford to send any of our men North now Sansa, Winter is coming and convincing them to go South again with the snow thickening would be near impossible."

"Why should they go south again?" It was a simple question but with such a loaded answer. All the North men in the room had lost something in this war for little or no gain, holding the Riverlands came at the price of the Ironborn taking their own lands while it was Robb's decision to send Theon to Pike which had caused the whole mess. She needed the Northern lords to see her for everything her brother wasn't, she needed them to follow her and not him, if not openly than in private.

"I have been declared King of the North and the Trident as you well know Sansa." His voice held a note of warning.

"Then do as other king's do; broker a truce with Tywin, he no longer has any familial claim to the Iron throne, he will probably still try to destroy Melissandre and what's left of Stannis; a Lannister always paying his debts is as much a threat as a promise of financial reward, no siege has ever taken King's Landing so he would probably be more amenable to peace talks with us now and if he is not, well.... He will be focusing his efforts on King's Landing and Melissandre, we can unobtrusively return home and take what ships we can find to take back what the Iron Born took form us."

"She has a point," Sasna was surprised at Brynden Tully's words, "The Iron Born cannot be allowed to continue as they have, this war was against Joffrey as well as Tywin, Joffrey's dead now, we should retake Moat Cailin and strengthen the North. Tywin will be keeping his best fighters at the siege, he probably won't have them attack the Riverlands again for a while so we can reinforce our battlements in the interim."

"And bury my brothers' bodies, Gods know if the Bastard of Bolton even bothered to cut them down." Her blunt words were met by her mother's gasp and several angry inflections from the room of men. Maege Mormont just gave her a steady, appraising stare.

"Yes," Robb's voice was soft and low, "We need to see to that too as well as rebuilding Winterfell." She couldn't help herself, it was too easy to hurt him now as he sat before her.

"It's a good thing you were able to marry so quickly after our little brothers were killed, the Starks need heirs after all and I'm sure you and Talissa have been busy trying to replace our little brothers." There was shock at her words and pain.

"No one could replace Bran and Ricken, how can you say that?" Robb asked as two years of heart ache and pain shot from her eyes like fire and Robb actually flinched from her glare.

"I assumed from your reluctance to go North that you cared as much for them as you did for me or for our Father, was I wrong?" Her voice is carefully calm and not accusatory at all.

  
"What is that supposed to mean?!" Robb is on his feet now, shouting at her as he leans across the table, the anger and heat flowing off him. Sansa does not turn a hair, she just answers in the same calm voice.

"Just that you called the Bannermen when our father was arrested and since then he was publicly forced into making a false confession, beheaded and his head displayed on a spike, his eyes pecked out by ravens, his body thrown in a ditch with the bodies of thieves, murderers, rapist, my Septa and our Stark men. That was two years ago and since then the closest Joffrey Baratheon ever got to a battle field were the ravens he received in the safety of his throne room about your victories and the closest he got to killing his enemies was when he used to point a loaded crossbow at me while I begged for my life. The closest his King's guard got to fighting for their King was when he ordered them to beat me in court. Was I wrong? Did little Bran and Ricken matter to you even a smidge more than me? I assumed you hadn't exchanged the Kingslayer for me because I was a girl alone and I had written that letter Cersei forced me to write in those early days, I had thought that if Arya was with me you would have come for both of us but not for one of us, now I see I was wrong. None of us really mattered to you: not Father, not Arya, not me, not Bran, not Ricken, all you care for is your crown and your foreign whore." The slap was back handed and sharp, it rang out through the room like thunder, it sent a sharp stinging wave of pain through her cheek bone and she could feel her eye ball trembling in the socket but she had suffered worse. She gave him a triumphant look then; 'Good,' she thought, 'he has been acting like a little Prince from one of their Mother's stories, imagining himself to be better than everyone else; from Tywin, Joffrey, Bolton; but he is just the same, he is a killer, he is a leader who has to do what's necessary and what's necessary is rarely pretty, he should have been cured of such childish notions long ago on his first battle field; instead it has fallen to me,his little sister to do it.'

"I'm sorry Sansa, I didn't mean to hurt you but you went too far." He has the decency to look ashamed now which angered her more.

"You are a King!" She sneered, angry again at his reaction, "A King never apologises! I was beaten worse by Joffrey's King's Guard many times and they rarely took off their mailed fists when they struck me so don't you worry; I can take it but what I cannot take is our country being ravaged by Theon's depraved relations while we play at court down here in the South, this will be a winter harder and longer than any we have ever had before, tens of thousands are already destined to die from starvation alone, if we don't act now then it will be too late and Winterfell will never be rebuilt. The Riverlands are indefensible, give them up, return home and let our Bannermen defend their homes as they want to." There is a shift in the room, Sansa can feel the hot bruise spreading across her face, she has a notion that her cheekbone may be fractured; 'Good' she thinks 'He hurt me so much by his indifference, his anger now shows a mark I can wear with pride and shame them with.' She sits tall and regal in her cot as the ache in her cheek stings, her left eye above the bruise is dark and seeing stars, she is glad; she wears it with pride.

"I think this war council has gone on long enough: Sansa you are unwell and need to rest." Her mother piped up, Sansa could still not look at her.

"I am perfectly well, were there any messeges for me?"

"No none, but you should still rest, it is an emotional time for all of us."

"Of course Mother, your concern for my well being is touching after two years of total indifference and neglect." Again her voice is calm and matter of fact, she doesn't need to shout to get the truth of her words across to the people in the room; her cold manner is unsettling enough for them.

"I will escort you back to your room Lady Sansa, I think you and I need to have a chat," Lady Mormont rose from her seat and walked toward her as Sandor and the other guards on the door came in to carry her back to her room. His face immediately became a mask of rage as he looked around the room for the culprit of her bruise

"Clegane I wish to go to the Gods' wood." He didn't move; he was glaring at Robb so intensely that the other Lords had reached for their weapons. "Clegane I must pray to the Gods for guidance, if you will not carry me then I will find someone who will!" It was a knife's edge of a decision, he could have chosen to draw his weapon and attack Robb then and there as payback for the blossoming bruise but he obeyed, he was a loyal dog who obeyed his master so he took a deep breath and went to pick up her cot, his anger making his hands shake. The other guards carried her too; one at each corner of the cot and they headed for the Gods' wood, her Mother may have wanted to follow her but instead stayed behind.

Neither Maege nor the guards spoke as they walked, the Soldiers stopped in their activities to salute the Princess; their smiles immediately turning to concern and embarrassment when they saw the bruise; funny how some men will not meet a woman's eyes when she bares a mark of violence. At the Gods' wood Sandor sat her down and walked away; he would check the perimeter, sharpen his sword and make himself busy until he had calmed down. Maege sat next to her on a Weirwood root as Sansa reached out with her mind to warg into Grey Wind who dutifully sat outside the solar his master sat in, his ear pressed up against the door.

"Robb how could you hit her?" Her mother asked all concern, unbidden Grey Wind growled at the sentiment.

"She called Talissa a whore I was defending her-"

"Robb never, never ever use me as an excuse for hitting her again, she was angry and wanted you to lash out, you need to be careful around her from now on." Talisssa's foreign accent is slightly harder to make out.

"Aye that's a girl with a lot of rage in her, I suppose it was to be expected, when I think of how angry I got seeing Jamie Lannister tied up in a cage and then there she was in King's Landing; Joffrey wasn't in a cage and she had to live with them and call him her betrothed...." Lord Karstark said, he seemed disgusted at the thought, his display of empathy meant a lot to her, in her he saw a mirror of some of his own rage and perhaps that would be enough to help him master it. Sansa listened to the rest of the Council through Grey Wind's ears, She opened her eyes in the Gods' wood to find Maege's intelligent assessing eyes on her. Sansa needed to be smart if she was to survive this place.


	15. The Fallout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa muses on the source of her power as Tywin and his cohorts plot and scheme in King's Landing, Sansa forms a useful alliance and friendship. I will get to Sansan eventually, I just had a few other things to sort out first.

Sansa sat in the Gods wood listening to the breeze through the leaves, the voices of the gods and her ancestors; there was so much regret, so much pain, the three eyed Raven sometimes reached out to her as she sat praying here, it was like he was very far away and very close at the same time. 'I am alive' she reminded herself; 'my heart beats'. There was no avoiding it any longer, they would not believe and bring the army north so she had to convince them in another way. She would have to tell them of the night king and his army that moved south. Sansa was not the only person with the blood of the first men in her veins, the first men and the thirteenth Commander of the night's watch, what was in her was in Robb too and being exposed to fire magic like he was it may eventually wake up.

It had been in the clearing that night as Sandor's warmth and touch brought her back to her body that she first felt the presence of the three eyed Raven, in her dreams she saw half remembered things and old Nan, dutiful and kind, she had cared for all the Stark children. All the Stark children since the baby the thirteenth commander managed to have with his Whitewalker wife; a union that never should have been possible and a child that never should have been able to exist and yet drew breath.

  
Many leagues in the North a bent over figure walked with a determined stride south towards Sansa. Millennia ago Old Nan had delivered that babe into this world, she had carried the babe from the Wall, not the weather beaten Wall she knew but a younger brighter one. The humans had ruined everything as they always did, they spread and conquered, spread and conquered. She managed to smuggle herself and the babe out of the astle that night as it was attacked by two armies North and South. The Stark banners had been held high; actual wolf's heads on spikes, it was years later that they started sewing the sigil on banners and displaying them instead. Old Nan found refuge for herself and the little one to live in the South, disguising herself as a wizened old human woman instead of a child of the forest who healed the locals with her herbal cures. She raised the child in the forest hoping to keep it safe from the humans who had murdered its parents but such things cannot be kept hidden, such was the girl's beauty with red hair just like her Father's and bright blue eyes just like her mother's that when the King, who was a Stark, was hunting deep in the woods and beheld her naked form in a lake he was so overcome with want for her that he stole her.

He married her by stealing her before the custom of marital alliances between great houses was an established custom in Westeros, he loved her and gave her many children and had Old Nan brought to Winterfell to help his beautiful new wife and make her feel more at home. Winterfell had been a young place then, the ruined tower was the one they all lived in and had the smell of freshly treated timbers, the other towers of the castle were added on bit by bit as Wintertown became larger. The years passed and Old Nan sat in a chair in the nursery or the sickroom educating each little Stark about their history, the first men, the Whitewalkers and the wargs. She had selflessly given them thousands of years of her life and they never noticed, never questioned her presence with them. She had been old when Eddard Stark was young and when he was middle aged she was still old and he would worry that she wouldn't survive another winter and be able to teach the next generation the stories she had told him and his siblings. They never questioned her age or her presence, unobtrusive as she was, inconsequential as she was, just an old family retainer it was their duty to keep fed and housed and so for thousands of years she had cared for the babes and guided the future King's and lords of house Stark.

She had done her best with Sansa, Sansa had the same blood as Arya but was such a skittish little thing; she ate meat every night at dinner but cried at the sight of the butcher's block, she prayed with her mother to those useless southern Gods and was scared of the Northern Gods and their mournful faces, her mother and her thrice damned Septa influenced the girl and had her looking for some beautiful man to come and take her away from her snowy castle. She had tried but the girl and her parents were so convinced she would go South and marry some great lord that she had found herself talking less with Sansa than with Arya. She had failed, in the thousands of years she had cared for her Stark babies there had only been a handful of girls, each one ending up as unhappy as the last, poor Lyanna. Now Sansa was in the deep south and the Winter in her had woken up, really woken up with a vengeance; she could have wiped them all out and made the South her frozen Kingdom, her own domain where she ruled absolute and no one would ever hurt her again.

Nan wrapped her cloak tighter around herself and continued walking; she hadn't, she could have but she hadn't so there was still hope, she could still be saved. Nan tried to focus on that thought above all others as she continued through the forest, she didn't know where she was or where she was going but she knew what direction her girl was in and she meant to reach her; praying to the Gods that she wasn't too late.............

  
Sitting in the Gods' wood, her eyes all white Sansa watched her from the leaves of the trees, Nan would be here soon and then things really would get complicated.

  
************

Tyrion sat in the chair and tried not to think about wine, he needed his wits about him for yet another war council meeting but five minutes of his father's company always left him in need of a goblet or three of the strong stuff. That little prick Baelish was smooth talking again, he believed his spy network and links to the Iron Bank made him indispensable and it greatly pleased Tyrion to see his Father treating him with the disdain he deserved.

"-As I brokered the alliance with the Tyrells based on the supposition that King Joffrey could marry Margeary Tyrell but as Joffrey is believed to be dead another marital alliance must be sought after to keep their support." Baelish explained to the table of Lannister men; Tywin, Kevan, Tyrion and a few other major Bannermen.

"Have we definitely confirmed reports that King Joffrey is dead then?" Kevan asked.

"Lady Sansa wrote to me over a week ago confirming it as well as a list of several other persons of noble houses." He held out the small piece of parchment which he knew by heart he had read so often. The list included Kevan's only son and heir but then Kevan already knew that.

"Can we trust her word though?" Tywin was always distrustful, especially having heard from Tyrion the things his daughter had withheld from him in their correspondents. Tywin was a practical man, what he did to the little whore Tyrion wed was acceptable because she was a whore of no family, but having grown men beat a little girl, a girl of such a great and noble family with impeccable pedigree had enraged him, what had Cersei been thinking to let her son carry on that way? In front of people? Ifn front of the whole court? Why had she raised such an irresponsible little monster? Sansa Stark was an asset not a play thing, if he wanted to torture little girls there were plenty in Baelish's brothels and in the drains of Flea Bottom.

Baelish disgusted Tywin, he was a jumped up little no body, full of his own self importance, he would have to be put in his place soon, the rumor mill said Lysa Arryn was waiting with baited breath for a marriage proposal from him, it was his influence that kept the Vale of Arynn out of the war. What it didn't explain was Lysa Arynn's very public statements that her husband Jon Arryn had been poisoned in a Lannister plot. Tywin peered at Baelish over his intertwined fingers; poison is a very difficult thing to prove or disprove especially without examining the body and how do you prove you did or did not have anything to do with it? A knife in the back can be traced to the owner but poison can be given at any time, in any place the culprit disappearing hours before the poison I s consumed and the murder actually committed. Most likely she murdered her husband herself and shifted the blame to his family in an attempt to shield herself from accusation. What Tywin wondered was how much Baelish had to do with it, it was no secret he had been having an affair with the woman for years, what had made her decide to kill her husband now instead of years earlier when her affair first started?

"Well the information she gave us about the Vallerian blades seems to be working," Tyrion looked down at his notes, "we've definately killed a good few Reds that way, the few reports from spies we still have in the city say that King Stannis now wears a black veil over his face with a crown on his head and doesn't speak but the Lady Melisandre speaks for him so it ties in somewhat with Lady Sansa's assertion that he is dead, proving it will be another matter. As for the truth of the people on her list being dead," burned to death; he cannot bring himself to say it aloud, the thoughts of little Tommen suffering like that makes his heart clench with rage, it said a lot about Lady Sansa that she wrote a side note in her letter saying that atleast Myrcella was safe and she hoped the Martells would keep her safe from Stannis' Red Woman. "She would have no reason I can see for lying about it." Tywin tapped his fingers on the table in thought, decades of work, of calculating every move of increasing his power, his worth and the prestige of his family gone. Joffrey and Tommen were his claim to the Iron throne without them he was left with Tyrion, a waist if there ever was one and perhaps Jamie. Jamie who had shirked every opportunity for greatness he had ever been given, the youngest member of the King's Guard in history; the only member of the King's Guard to murder their own King in history. Tywin had lost count of the number of times Jamie had been offered release from the King's guard, he had always refused.

"Where did the raven come from, do we know?" Tyrion nodded and pulled another sheet of paper from the desk.

"The message was sent via raven from a small stronghold along the Bay of Crabs, the boy who delivered the message paid extra to have the tag on the Raven's leg removed before it was sent off, she had a week to get from there to wherever she was going, as we had to send the Raven back with a request for the location and wait for a reply, the boy had travelled for nearly a day from his farm house where his family had harboured a young woman with red hair and a huge man, the boy did not know the names. Upon returning to his home he found it mostly burnt out and ran back to the village screaming that demons had possessed his family with glowing eyes and they had tried to kill him, the villagers thought him mad, but they did find the house burnt out as he had described and with no bodies inside. I would call it superstitious fancy but..." Tyrion left it unsaid, there was a constant dusting of ash over them from the bodies and buildings of King's Landing that burned. It had rained last night so the dusty ash had become mushy mud like dirt. His Father was as ever in shiny spotless armour and was clean shaven, everyone else no matter how hard they had tried had black smudges on them, their clothes, their hair, their skin. What Tyrion wouldn't give for a chance to be away from the smell, the death, the endlessness of it.

"Our latest report," Tywin began, "from the stark army stationed in Riverrun is that she is back in Riverrun and is displaying powerful magic of her own, she had trained wolves rip Roose Bolton apart, apparently that cloak turner Walder Frey told the Stark's everything about the plan to destroy the Stark army during the wedding at the Twins so now we must finish the Freys as well as the wolves, I've sent Gregor Clegane to deal with it, his presence was making the Tyrell boy and his sister nervous anyway. What I want to know is why she bothered sending us the Raven message at all, surely she has no loyalty to our family." Tywin pursed his lips as he stared at Baelish, Varys and Tyrion, the only three people in the war council who had actually had any interaction with Lady Sansa.

Tyrion was the first to answer; "What do you mean they were planning to destroy the army at a wedding? Was there to be a battle at the twins during the wedding?" He asked with trepidation in his voice.

"No it was all arranged: the Stark's would get guest rights and lay down their weapons and when they were well in their cups the song the Reines of Castemere would give the signal and the Freys would kill them; trapping them in their tents, raining fire and arrows down on them from above, the whole war would have been finished in a fortnight if the wedding had gone ahead." Everyone around the table fell silent as they considered this, to give guest rights was to make a pact with the gods that you would not harm those under your roof, it was to be expected that Tywin would flout the Gods in this way but at the same time was disgusting to everyone present. Baelish gave a knowing smile at Tywin's words and tried not to think what that would have meant for his beloved Cat, Tyrion said a silent prayer thanking the Gods that such an atrocity had not taken place and then went to answer his Father's second question.

"'The enemy of my enemy is my friend' now that King Joffrey and Queen Cersei are dead Lady Sansa has to focus on the future, the Reds are only animated within a certain perimeter of the city, within a certain distance of the Red Woman but the second raven letter the master of the rookery sent us suggests that other Reds are rising further North, namely around Lady Sansa, her survival may depend upon us killing Melissandre and stopping her sourcey once and for all." Varys nodded his assent at these words.

"Unfortunately even my network of little birds cannot get much information from Asshai about this Red Woman, her religion is spreading in popularity through out Essos especially amongst the slaves, Stannis' Red Woman claims he is Azor Ahai and has built him up with religious fervor but other Red Priests across the Narrow Sea are now claiming that the young Targareon is Azor Ahai as she now has an army of eight thousand fully trained unsullied and three Dragons the size of a cart and cart horse, was the last description." Varys always had a theatrical air about him but this statement was a bit unnerving to everyone present, they had seen the dead rise, were dragons such a reach of the imagination?

Tywin sat back and laced his fingers in thought, he had shown little emotion beyond outrage and indignation at news of the deaths of Cersei and her children, they had been his family and he he was outraged that anyone would dare kill them in such a way but he felt little grief or sadness at the emotional loss. This lack of emotion had not gone unnoticed by all present when the letter had arrived, Mace Tyrell was a fool and had believed the Patriarch was hiding his feelings in some show of strength. Laurice who had heard stories of Tywin was a bit revolted at the absence of any type of pain and Margeary had shown empathy and sympathy for the Lannisters' loss while she calculated her next move, her next marriage. Everything she observed she put in a carefully worded and encrypted message to her Grandmother who was safe in HighGarden away from the war.

In this council meeting, however, there were no roses present and they all needed to discuss and plan strategy for keeping the roses with the lions.

"Another marriage would be the best way, ideally between Jamie and Margeary but he is not here yet, we'll put it to the Tyrells anyway. Reports of his escape say that he should be here any day now." Tywin said dismissevly, his eyes going to his youngest son unbidden, 'if only, if only' he thought, not for the first time. 'If only Tyrion had been whole, if only he could have arranged a marriage with him and Ellia Martel, Cersei would have married Rhaegar and he never would have been tempted by that Northern girl. Things could have been so different but they were what they were and he had to manage it. Another voice in his head, a nagging voice said 'Cersei couldn't even keep Robert interested for a fortnight, hat makes you think she could have held Rhaegar's attention? Especially with Jamie hanging around, why had he been so eager to be in the King's Guard? Close to Cersei?' He Pushed those thoughts away, lies; all of them, just Stannis and Renly's and Ned Stark's and Robb Stark's attempts to steal the throne. 'Honourable Ned Stark who could have ceased the throne for himself all those years ago when Aerys died but instead claimed it for Robert, only to try to steal it from Robert's legitimate children less than two decades later?' He pushed the thought away again and focused on more important things to do with the war.

In another tent in the same camp Margeary looked down at the black dress with a mournful sigh, she hated wearing black but after the ash in the air had completely ruined her blue silk dress she had no choice but to wear dark, easily washable colors. This army encampment was nothing like Renly's had been, these men were desperate and had haunted looks on their faces when they came back from fighting, and it wasn't just a battle it was a continuous battle in the same area on top of the bodies of the dead. Laurice was changed, they had only been there two weeks and already it had taken a toll on him, he no longer laughed or was happy he just came back from the front, tried to sleep and went back again, his eyes having seen enough terror to fuel a lifetime of nightmares. Margeary read the latest message from her Grandmother, the Lannisters saw her as a pawn to be married to seal an alliance and a more sickening thought Margeary had yet to have. Tywin was such an old man and his coldness, his lack of feeling at his own daughter's murder and the murder of his grandchildren left her feeling decidedly chilled, then there was Tyrion, the only other living Lannister who was unmarried, no one had suggested it yet but she knew what they were thinking and the thought made her stomach turn, she would not, could not wed a dwarf. Her family would not stand for it.

All she had wanted was to be queen, was that so much to ask?

There was always the Martells of Dorne but they had already arranged a marital alliance between the heir and Myrcella Baratheon. She would have to be clever and use all of the tricks her Grandmother had taught her to come out on top here.

  
***********

In the Gods' wood Sansa opened her eyes to find Maege looking at her with a sweet smile. "Where do you go when your eyes go like that?" She asked, "Wherever it is it looked peaceful."

"It wasn't, I travelled on the wind, on the wings of the Gods to see what I could see, there will be much pain and death in our future."

"You speak as if you know for certain."

"I do, tell me Lady Mormont, did you approve of how I dealt with the Boltons and the Freys? A small amount of effort and violence led to us keeping the bulk of their two armies; it wasn't honest and some may say it wasn't honourable but it may help us to secure the North and return home, what did you think of it?" Lady Mormont sat back and leaned her head against the tree behind her.

"I think it was the sort of thinking we need if we are to win this war. Your brother has done well with most of his battles but his way would not have yielded such fine results for us as your's did."

"The taking of a life is a terrible thing, but if that life threatens you or your family surely one is obligated to do what is necessary, do you not think so Lady Mormont?"

"Call me Maege, as your Father did. We're not talking about the Bolton's anymore are we?" Maege wasn't sure what it was in the girl's manor but she knew something and she was looking for Maege's approval.

"Why don't you tell me and we can find the right path together." Sansa turned sad eyes to the woman and then pursed her lips; wondering where she should begin.

"Talisa receives and sends messages in High Vallerian, few people here can read or speak the ancient language but I know enough, she is a spy, has always been a spy for Lord Tywin, I assume her mission was only to be Robb's mistress and report back all that she found out about his military decisions but then he wed her." Maege sat in silence for a full three minutes as the implications of these words settled in.

"You are certain? Have you told anyone?" Sansa shook her head.

"Clegane suspects, he didn't like that Talissa was in the war council meeting anymore than I did, he also didn't understand why she was treating the men in an army tent with few guards; the obvious reason is her contact could easily take and receive messages from her there."

"But it is not just suspicion, you know this for a fact?" The girl nodded sadly and the two women looked at the great tree behind them in thought.

"What will you do?"

"I cannot allow her to go on treating my leg, it would be too easy for her to poison the ointment or the medicine I drink and kill me so I must alienate her as I did this morning in the war council meeting so someone else can be my healer, she cannot suspect that I know." Maege nodded at the sage words.

"What will you do about her?"

"Robb is a sensitive boy, he always has been, he has always been quick to love and eager to please, it would destroy him as much as Theon's betrayal destroyed him if he were to find out and we could not keep it secret from the men, hard as we may try."

"What do you plan to do?" Sansa sighed and leaned back against the tree. Glad that she had someone to share her burden with.

 

******

It was a few days later that Talisa was working in a healer's tent; wrapping a nub where a few minutes ago there had been a leg. It was dirty, thankless work but she was saving lives, her contact slipped the message into her healer's bag then walked away unnoticed and Talissa finished her work and complaining of a headache left to go back to the King's rooms. The babe in her belly kicked her occasionally which made her smile at odd moments, everything would be fine, she knew it. Sansa was being carried towards her on her cot,she had avoided Talissa ever since the outburst in the war council meeting and had even refused Talissa's offers of help for her leg. Unbeknownst to the girl that is what would save her because had Talissa had access to her medicines after that display in the Great Hall the girl would have been dead by now. She didn't need a message from Tywin to know this girl and her wolves were dangerous and needed to be stopped.

To her surprise the girl waved her down and the two met in the courtyard.

"Your majesty, it is good to see you out and about on such a day." Sansa was ever the courteous and polite Lady, until she was around her mother or brother then her tongue had a viper's venom on it.

"Princess Sansa, how nice to see you getting some fresh air, I hope your leg has improved some."

"It is improving every day but I am afraid the Maester is not as skilled as you at healing, I may have to ask you to take up my treatment again." She said blushing, she obviously meant it as an olive branch to mend the gap her harsh words had illicited. Talissa gave a carefully controlled smile, the girl needed to be killed and it would be so much easier to carry it out as her healer though she must be careful; the Great Hound of a man who followed her everywhere looked like he would kill every man in that castle to protect her and to think; they had called him the 'Lannister' dog.

"I would be delighted to treat your leg again." She said sincerely and the two women parted ways; she to her solar and Princess Sansa off to her Gods' wood. It was only as she was safely in the solar that she locked the door and took out the encrypted message to read it but the paper was blank, there was then a knocking at her chamber door and outside it she found Princess Sansa, standing while leaning on a stick, an unknown wolf at her side.

"May I come in?" Talissa nodded and held the door open wider, a small part of her mind wondering where the guards that were supposed to be watching her door had gone. Sansa walked with only the slightest limp to one of the chairs and made herself comfortable in it while Talissa poured the two of them some wine.

"Your leg must be improving, I didn't expect to see you walking on it so soon."

"Yes the sickly invilid is an act I put on for everyone else but I need not put it on in front of you, we both know what we are."

"An act? Why would you put on such a show?"

"I am a highborn Lady, my brother and mother have already been inundated with offers for my hand, less men wish to marry a cripple than a whole maiden so the mummer's show protects me," she leaned forward and her voice went low as if she was telling a secret. "You see Sandor and I secretly married a few days before we came to Riverrun, but you mustn't tell anyone it would lose Robb supporters and Bannermen if they knew."

"Of course your secret is safe with me," her eyes gleaming with suppressed delight, "Does your brother or anyone else know?"

"No, my brother is a fool and cannot manage his own affairs, why should I trust him with my own?"

"You speak very harshly of our King." Talisa said with some anxiety as Sansa's fingers played with the fur of her wolf, the playful laughter gone from her eyes to be replaced by a deep sorrow that had Talissa wondering.

"Talisa I know....everything, I know you were trained as a sorrowful man, an assassin with the training to fit into any society you are thrust into, I know you have been reporting to Tywin Lannister about my brother and his army and about me and I know that you have poisoned this goblet of wine which you just handed me." The woman who said her name was Talissa sat back in the chair and looked at the girl with her massive wolf, 'the paper had been blank, she talked to me in the courtyard.' She thought.

"Misdirection, while you spoke to me in the courtyard my healer's bag was being tampered with." Talissa said aloud.

"Just so but as well as being able to communicate and talk to wolves I can also talk to many other animals and all the Ravens coming here from King's Landing have come to me before the Rookery and also all Ravens leaving, I suspected what you were when I first found out how you had married Robb so I redirected the two Ravens you sent Tywin, the writing matches a sample of the writing I have from your solar." Sansa pulled a sheet of paper from her sewing bag; such an unobtrusive, elegant Lady's bag, no one would think it had the power to bring down kings and crowns. "He never got any of your messages and Maege Mormont had a pickpocket she freed from the dungeons and a few of his little friends following you and people you came into contact with. Children are very good at going unnoticed and pickpockets are so good at slight of hand, you may have noticed that all of the guards on you the last few days have been from Bear Island, Maege is a very practical and capable ally for me."

"Yes, I've always admired that about her," Talisa shifted in her seat, she could feel her heart hammering in her chest, she had one trump card left. "I am carrying your brother's child, the heir to the North, you cannot harm me while he grows inside me."

"My brother could not ....but I can, I will do whatever it takes to save the North and you threaten the North, Robb needs to be a widower now, not in six months time and marry a Highborn girl with an army." There is such sadness in her as she says this.

"You would kill your own niece or nephew? Robb will never forgive you." Sansa looked away sadly as her eyes roamed the room.

"Robb will never know, you've been feeling ill all morning but you put it down to morning sickness but it isn't getting better, we put it in the semolina pudding you had last night, no one will ever know where the poison came from or even if there was poison, it was a cocktail of a few different things, all the symptoms will make it harder for anyone trying to identify a single poison involved: eventually the common foxglove will finish you, you took it with a dose of willow bark in your morning tea, your heart will stop and you will be mourned." Tears started to fall down her cheeks as she gripped her belly, the aches in her chest becoming more sharp and defined.

"Why are you here then? Why are you telling me this?" A stiffness that she had felt in her feet earlier had now spread up her legs and she knew it was over, could feel her heart hammering in her chest as she started too drift away.

"I wanted to search your room and find any evidence of your betrayal, Robb is too sensitive; such information would kill him, Sandor!" Sandor came into the room then, he had not been outside earlier. "Sandor is wonderful at sniffing out things like liars and secrets." Talisa slowly died, sitting in her chair, a queen who had been born in Volantis, taken from her slave mother by her Father Master and given as an offering to the Sorrowful Men; she had trained long and hard, her knowledge as a healer making her an excellent assassin as she became an accomplished apothecary. She learned to read and write and trained so she could play a highborn Lady or a street rat. Tywin had called on the sorrowfulmen's services to keep track of Robb Stark and his men, knowing that his Westerland men could never fit in in the wolf's camp. The sorrowful men did not try to fit in they merely healed the injured and worked, unnoticed.

It was a few hours after that that Robb found Talissa wrapped up in a blanket in her solar, dead, her exotic features so beautiful and pale in death, he wept and his men saw his grief. Sansa had been in the Gods' wood with Maege Mormont, Clegane and several guards for several hours, in fact she was the last person to have spoken to Talisa in the courtyard before she died and seemed genuinely grief stricken at the news. The Maester declared it to have been heart failure, aggravated perhaps by her pregnancy, Sansa wept real tears as she held her brother and her mother that evening and told them how sorry she was. No one had seen her, no one knew that she had changed her cloak in the woods and walked unnoticed to the Queen's solar, no one knew that Sandor and she had searched the room and removed all traces of Talisa's betrayal. Sansa wept into her brother's shoulder and comforted him in his loss and when it was time she helped him to lift their Father's Vallerian sword and cut the skin of her hand to prevent her from rising again as the undead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	16. Love and War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margaery Tyrell begins to play a bigger part as Sansa and her Mother talk about he past.

Sansa held her big brother and patted his back reassuringly as his body racked with sobs, his mother took the opportunity to hold Sansa close as well as Robb, Sansa had not shown her Mother any warmth or allowed her this close since her return. She wanted to scream at him 'You are a grown man! You knew her less than a year! Everything she told you was a lie! You gullible fool!' And another smaller sadder voice inside Sansa wondered 'Why did you love her more than me? More than Arya? Did you cry like this over Bran and Ricken?' She made a mental note to make sure he only had male guards for the next few weeks and that they should report back to her about any women he had interactions with, she wasn't going to let it happen again on her watch.

"Robb we must not tell anyone about this, we have to pretend she's still alive." Robb recoiled from her and stared at her in horror as did her Mother. "Clegane" She spoke to her husband in her authoritarian tone that invited no arguments, he was the only one she could depend on to follow her instructions without question, "Tell the guards on the door, the Maester, track down everyone who knows and tell them that not with a word or a look can they betray their King's confidence, Queen Talisa is alive until we say otherwise." Sandor nodded and left the room, he would recruit Maege's help for this.

"Sansa you cannot be serious, she needs to be buried, given a full ceremony, she was our queen." Sansa repressed her rage and put on her best mummer's mask of compassion.

"Robb there are armies outside this castle and people within it that are plotting your downfall, even as you sit here in your grief they are planning your death and calculating their gain. We told everyone Walder Frey was loyal; that he saved them from being slaughtered by Bolton, you're now free to keep your original vow and wed one of his daughters. A Frey cannot be Queen of the North!" She said the last with certainty. "The future King of the North cannot, will not share blood with the weasels of the Twins!" Her Mother and brother were now quiet and looking around contemplativly.

"Sansa's right Robb, we have to think of the future, the Freys will be demanding a wedding before she is cold in her grave if we make this public knowledge." Robb was still a mommy's boy in some ways and listened to her reasoning more than Sansa's, although he clearly wasn't happy about it he would go along with it.

"What will we do with her body? We can't leave her here." He sounded so like a little boy that it almost made Sansa feel sorry for him, almost.

"We will put her in Riverrun's Crypt, she will be safe there and the air is cool, there are methods to preserve bodies involving vinegar and dry air. I don't know exactly how they work but the Maester may know. We will tell people of her death when we are ready but not before then." Catelyn did know some things about politics and intrigue so Sansa sat back and let her mother arrange everything, it probably looked better anyway to have her mother taking control, if she drew too much attention to herself now it may lead to awkward questions from her brother.

She was carried back to her room a little later by her Bear Island guards, Sandor came back to her a little later and was admitted to her room without hesitation. Maege was a woman of the world and understood how things were between them so she had picked some very discreet and trustworthy guards for the princess's door. When the door was closed he didn't hesitate in reaching for her and pulling her from her chair and onto the bear skin rug before the unlit fireplace. It had been so long since they were alone, not since the morning of the mountain lion attack had she felt his hands on her; lifting her like she weighed no more than a feather; his hands roaming over every inch of flesh, kneeding her breasts and her bottom until she was sure he would leave marks.

"It makes a nice change to do this when you're wearing a dress." He purred as he nuzzled her neck and his hands went under the hem of her dress and lifted it above her thighs.

"It makes a nice change to do this in-doors." She groaned back as she moved her hands up to the buttons of his tunic covering his torso and tried to untie them as the wicked man continued to writhe on top of her, using his hands to make her pant and moan in want.

Eventually frustrated by her lack of progress he resorted to pushing her away so he was free to take off the tunic himself, then he pulled her flush against his bare chest. She immediately reached forward and took one of his nipples in her mouth and suckled at it gently before scraping her teeth over the hardening red flesh. They did not remove all of their clothes, an uneasy feeling was still upon them both that they were not safe and needed to be careful. Released from his breeches his member was hot and heavy in her hand as she began to pump him rhythmically with her hand the way he liked but he soon stilled her movements and brought her hands to his chest.

"I'm so hard for you I'm like to spill all over these delicate little hands of yours if you keep that up." With that he placed a gentle, loving kiss on the palm of each of her hands. It was so at odds with his fiery passion of a moment ago that she felt another wave of affection in her heart and of wetness between her legs and held them open in the air for him wearing her most inviting smile as she pulled up the dress revealing her lack of underclothes to him. He didn't move for a moment, just stared at the treasure she had revealed to him before he lowered his face towards her wet and ready pussy with a wicked grin twisting his burnt face.

***********  
  
Catelyn left Robb alone to say his goodbyes, Sansa had shown great maturity and foresight in the solar earlier, she had really surprised and impressed Catelyn with her quick thinking. It hurt Cat to think that her sweet, innocent girl had had to grow so much without anyone around to love and guide her. She kept wondering what Sansa had really been through there but every time she tried to talk to her Sansa treated her Mother like an enemy, scorning any attempts at affection or tenderness. She was not the girl she remembered at all. What hurt the most was the fact that her words were always laced with venom when she spoke to Robb, Catelyn and a few other members of the family. She had encouraged Robbet Glover to speak to her on one occasion as she sat under those Weirwood trees she had found, she needed polite society and perhaps a little romance with an honourable, eligible man. She felt an attachment with a good man may help Sansa to heal the past few years of pain. He had approached her, Catelyn looking on; sure that the charming young man would make Sansa blush and smile just like the Sansa of old used to. He returned less than fifteen minutes later looking a bit pale, when asked what they had spoken of he told her she should really talk to Sansa herself.

The only person she seemed to have time for was Maege Mormont, which irked Catelyn some what. Why would she befriend a woman older than her mother but not her mother? Maege was everything a Lady should not be; she carried an axe, she fought in battles, trained with men in the training yard, had atrocious table manners (though that let her fit right in with the Northern lords) and she had a daughter who everyone claimed had eight children with a bear. Of course Catelyn new that this was just a myth and that really Maege encouraged or atleast did not discourage questionable moral behavior in her children, what could she and her Lady daughter possibly find to talk about? A horrible thought sometimes occurred to her that perhaps there was more to her relationship with Sandor Clegane than they had been led to believe. It was a sickening thought, he was such a ferocious looking man and she had been dependent on him for a fortnight in the wilderness, he could have convinced her to do anything. She shuddered at the thought of her sweet innocent girl being manipulated or abused by such a beast and quickly chased it away, the morals she had taught her daughter would have stayed with her no matter what and if he had done anything untoward with her then she wouldn't be so comfortable around him now. That thought made Cat frown more than smile, her little girl who loved beautiful things and loved having her hair brushed now recoiled from her mother's touch and always looked around a crowded room until she saw her sworn shield. Not for the first time she regretted ever sending Sansa to King's landing, they should have told King Robert to run his own country, should have told Lysa to sort out her own husband's murder, they should have stayed in Winterfell where they were safe.

Clegane wasn't standing guard outside Sansa's door but two Bear Island guards were, they announced Lady Catelyn and she entered to find Sansa on the bear skin rug  bore the unlit hearth with her legs stretched out, a rug pulled around her as she tried to knit in the fading light from the window. She looked up and acknowledged Lady Catelyn before returning to her work.

"Knitting socks? A useful skill, I have my embroidery basket in my room if you would like to start a project, we could probably adjust a few of my old dresses to make them more comfortable on you." Sansa shrugged at her mother's words.

"I can't hold an embroidery needle the way I used to because of breaking my fingers, they seem to be sort of permanently frozen in this way." She held up her right hand and tried to wiggle all four fingers but the pointing and middle finger only twitched a little.

"Oh Sansa I'm sorry to hear that, I know how proud you were of your embroidery." Sansa's head snapped up with some fire in her eyes as if she was about to shout something at her but she instantly calmed and continued to try to hold the knitting needles and maneuver them correctly. "I wanted to tell you Sansa how proud I was of your behavior earlier, your quick thinking may have saved Robb the war." Sansa continued to maneuver the needles, it was not as ladylike an activity as embroidery and she had never been given as many lessons in this as she had with sewing roses into cloth. Sometimes she wondered what her Father had been thinking when he handed his daughters over to Lady Catelyn to be raised, 'Winter is Coming' were their house words yet she had never knitted a mitten or a sock but she had waisted countless hours, yards of cloth and miles of expensive coloured threads sewing fantastical floral scenes into cloth, what a waist of time. She squeezed her stiff and aching fist before continuing. "How is your leg dear, are you in any pain?"

"I've had worse." Her tone was dead pan and it didn't really answer Lady Catelyn's question.

"Yes Lord Muttin's son mentioned something of the sort after you spoke to him yesterday, he came away from your conversation looking a little...troubled, I thought-" Sansa put down her knitting and looked Lady Catelyn directly in the eye, giving her the full force of her pain and anger in that look.

"Do you really want to do this now? Do you really think you can handle it now given everything that happened today? Your son's crown may yet cost him his head, our fates are hanging by a thread, we cannot know if we will be alive in a month or in a day's time. I'm scared mother, Winter is coming, the days grow shorter and I cannot sit within 20 meters of a lit candle. How will I survive the snows and ice of the North? " She sighed heavily, it was all weighing on her and her good mood since Sandor left her was quickly dissipating in her Mother's presence. Thank God she had not arrived ten minutes earlier or she would have caught the two of them together. He had left her with his seed still inside her, running down the inside of her leg even as she sat there in front of her mother she could still feel the memory of his touch on her skin, the scratch of his beard where he had left her skin tender, the ache between her legs where he ploughed into her, making her back arch with pleasure; where pain and pleasure walk hand in hand, the intensity of it.

He possessed her and made her his, it was a little terrifying sometimes when she saw into his mind at those times; so consumed with adoration and possessiveness was he. She longed to talk to someone about it, she longed to say her worries aloud to a female friend she could trust, she hadn't had one since Jeyne Poole though Shea came close. Her mind often went to Shea; wondering where she was now or if she was alive, she was so strong and resourceful, she carried a knife for protection and knew how to use it, surely she had survived the sacking of King's Landing? Shea would know what to do about Sandor, Shea would know how to handle his rage and jealousy. Misdirection as key; she could not tell Lady Catelyn what was really bothering her so she settled for something her mother would believe was bothering her. "I will tell you, I'll tell you what I said to the latest suitor you sent to court me, the latest Lord's son in the market for damaged goods at a reduced rate because I am damaged goods, am I not? Between my leg and Melissandre's sourcery I am the least attractive Princess in history and every suitor you send my way is just a painful reminder of that fact, I can't even write a letter my hand is so useless; I've been trying with my left hand but it's still pretty illegible; the knitting is a way for me to improve dexterity, Talisa suggested it." Mother and daughter both fell silent, an unspoken grief in the air that that one name brought forth.  
  
"I apologize Sansa, I did not realise you felt that way; of course you are attractive, you are a Princess, the most beautiful in history if I am any judge," Sansa flinched at her words, "No one sees you as damaged goods, I only meant for you to meet some civilised and polite young men, I can only imagine the indignities you must have suffered travelling with Clegane for two weeks and I wanted you to have some exposure to polite society. We will sort out the fire problem, I promise Sansa, Melissandre will die and with her her curse and you will be free to live your life, marry well and be happy."

Sansa went quiet and stared down at her knitting, so many of the things her mother said were wrong, it was this sort of attitude that led to her believing in songs and love stories.

"What if the curse doesn't end with Melissandre's death? What if she escapes across the narrow sea back to Asshai? Back to her own country? What if I can never be around lit candles again? It is strange as things have turned out: before I used to pray for Tywin Lanniser's military blunders, I used to pray the Lannisters would all die and leave us alone, I used to pray my brother would save me with his army. Now I pray that Tywin holds onto his grudge, I pray he is as good as he thinks he is, I pray he is as hell bent on revenge against Melissandre as I think he is because if she dies it will be because of him. Robb will not waste his soldiers, his army or his gold in a pursuit for my freedom from this curse-" her mother began to protest but Sansa silenced her, "-he didn't waste any of those things in an attempt to save me from my jailers, why should this be any different? I know you all talk about marriages for me; alliance for his crown and that's alright but know this: I will live my life in darkness; my only companion would be daylight and any house I enter must have all dead bodies burnt or desicrated by Vallerian steel, now I ask you what man would wish for such a wife? What man deserves the punishment of such a wife?" She sighed more heavily, there was more, things Catelyn didn't know, things that Sansa wouldn't speak of to anyone. Maege was a wonderfully solid woman and Sansa had almost felt safe enough to talk to her about it but how could she? No one would understand except Sandor and he still didn't truly understand, she shifted in her seat at the memory. No matter how good sex with Sandor was it was still there, no matter how beautiful he made her feel it was still there, every time she looked at Robb it was there and every time she looked at the noble Northern Lords so proud to fight for the young wolf and his crown it was there. No one had rescued her. No one had come for her. They had all abandoned her and no amount of flattery or kind words from them would heal the knife like pain that caused in her heart. Sandor had stroked her bruised cheek and kissed along her jawline so gently it was like being kissed by a butterfly's wings as he begged her not to do it again, not to draw such pain on herself again if not for herself than for him.

"I'm not a maid anymore." The words came out of her unbidden, part of her knew she should spare her mother's feelings after all that had happened today and part of her wanted to shock and hurt this woman into seeing the world for what it was.

"Oh Sansa," Catelyn's hand flew to her mouth and tears started to fall down her cheeks, "what did Clegane do to you?" Sansa paused a moment and then threw her head back in laughter.

"Sandor is no raper Mother, he would never hurt me like that, what did you think was happening to me in King's Landing? Did you think I was having a gay old time painting screens and embroidering cushions? Joffrey killed Father so he could hear my screams, he made me look at Father's head rotting on a spike so he could delight in my pain and he had his King's guard beat me while he pointed a crossbow at me when he was in a bad mood. Did you really think he wouldn't have me raped?" Sansa paused at the end of this monologue to look upon her mother's pained face, part of her knew that once Catelyn had been her age and she had made a mistake, she must know now that it was a mistake, Petyr Baelish. How could her mother have given herself to the creepy little man when her own Father had been so noble and honourable and everything that degenerate wasn't, how could she give herself to such a man?

"Sansa I'm so sorry-"

"What was your first time like?" She wanted to know, would her mother be truthful? Would she be honest with Sansa as she thought Sansa was being with her? Would they finally be able to be honest with each other and tear away the lies that she had been fed in her childhood, the lies of the fairy tales with their false happy endings and the innocent lies parents tell their children because the world is too horrible to tell them about all in one go.

"I...Do you really want to know about my wedded night?" Sansa stared straight into her mother's face, she wished Sandor could be here, he was so much better at catching a lie

"I want to know about your first time." She said carefully. Lady Catelyn looked away wiping a tear from her cheek, she was still an attractive woman in many ways,

"Your Father was very kind and gentle and although we barely knew each other and although that entire week was marred by paI n and heartache as all of the atrocities committed by the Mad King King's Landing reached our ears .....it was, he was lovely.." Sansa understood what her mother was trying to say, what she couldn't put into words, she sat still.

"You loved him." She stated, "Did people console you as you grieved for him? I'm glad for you, no one consoled me, I wanted to wear mourning tweeds and cry my heart out at my loss but instead I had to lie and say he was a traitor, that he deserved his fate, that my brother deserved the same fate, that you deserved the same fate I had to say these awful thing s or Joffrey would hurt me. I had to say that I loved him, I had to call him my beloved I had to tell him I prayed for his victories over my traitor brother, I had to listen to him saying horrible things about our family and then he would talk about the fun he would have putting sons in me." Sansa stopped and looked at the empty hearth, even without a cheerful fire in the grate it still somehow drew the eye.

"Sansa I'm so sorry-"

"I think I know why Aunt Lysa hasn't joined the war effort, there was talk in King's Landing of her having an affair, with a husband so many decades older than her it's hardly surprising, I can imagine the messages Cersei has sent her lamenting how her golden son's enemies are conspiring to steal her son's rightful inheritance, how it is so hard for a woman; a widow all alone in the world with a son destined for great things yet when a large inheritance is involved people will do anything to take it." She paused a moment in contemplation, "You said Lysa seemed unbalanced when you saw her and unusually paranoid of anyone taking her son, it wouldn't take much manipulation on Cersei's part to convince her that Robin's future as a Highlord was in jeapordy." She didn't want her mother to know everything about Baelish, she wanted him for herself, she wanted him to come to Riverrun believing he was safe, that he would negotiate great alliances then she would kill him; slowly.

Unshed tears were still gathered in Lady Catelyn's eyes. "Yes I suppose I can see that that is a possibility, Lysa was much changed when I saw her."

"A mad woman is not fit to raise the future Lord of the Eyrie Mother, he is our kin too I think we must send uncle Brynden to the Vale. I'm not saying we should do anything drastic like have her taken away to a mad house or stab her in the back I just think she should not be allowed as much freedom as she has, Uncle Brynden is popular enough in the Vale, it would only take a few men, nothing drastic; a few tinctures and tonics to help stabilize her mood, a few rooms that lock on the outside where she can live far enough away from everyone so she cannot be unduly upset with the trials and tribulations of the world. Then when her milk has dried up she can have visits from her son Robin but really the boy is too old to be carrying on in such a way." The two women discussed madness and the causes of it for another hour but as much as Sansa tried to coax the truth out of her, as much as she tried to finish with open ended sentences she could not get anything from Catelyn on it. Sandor had known all about it, Cersei had thought it hilarious that Lysa was such a fool; not only to give her maidenhead to Baelish of l people but to be stupid enough to get pregnant. Cersei had theorized that the abortion Lysa's Father had tricked her into was the cause of all her later miscarriages and perhaps even her son's shaking sickness. It had made Sansa uncomfortable to wear the clothes her mother had worn at that time, to sleep in the bed her mother had slept in at that time as if some lingering pestilence from the Littlefinger could still infect her from those sheets after all those years. That's why she liked Sandor taking her on the rug like a wildling. The other reason being that the beds took too long to make and wrinkled at the slightest pressure. She looked forward to a Northern room with animal skin furs and hot water in the walls.......if she ever saw those things again.

************

Lady Olenna Tyrell was a practical woman with many admirable traits, her love of her family was one of them. She doted on her children and grandchildren but was also absolutely honest about their abilities. Her son Mace was an unfit ruler of HighGarden, it had been her careful guidance these past two decades that had raised HighGarden from the devastation it had suffered during Robert's rebellion. The reparations they had been forced to pay to the crown for backing the Targareon King had been massive but they had born the injustice of paying compensation to the victors of a war that they had been the losers of with extreme grace and poise as befit the Lords of HighGarden. She had had such high hopes for her Margeary; a girl born to be royalty, Margeary was young, had a good family name, an army behind her she should be queen of the seven Kingdoms even if it had meant marrying a bastard born of incest like King Joffrey Baratheon. Spies she had in King's Landing had sent her disturbing reports of the boys fettishes but she had resolved to hold judgement on him until she met him. That was all over and done with now as he was dead and King's Landing burning.

'What I must do now is focus on the future.' She thought to herself as she shifted through her latest reports from her spies in the Stark army. There had been romantic rumors that the young wolf's bride was really an heiress and would bring a thousand sell swords to his army but there were also far more strange yet confirmed reports that she really had been a woman he had married out of 'love'. Olenna shook her head and smiled, it was the sort of foolish notion she would expect of her fat son Mace but from all the reports the Young Wolf was not dim witted or foolish, he fought in battles alongside his men and his Direwolf, all the reports said that; she discarded the reports about canabilism and skinchanging; the world was horrific at times but rarely as bad as that. He allowed his mother into his war council meetings; even after she had let the King slayer go. 'Now that was interesting' she thought to herself, Lady Catelyn Tully Stark had become remarkably communicative these past few days; writing to HighGarden directly and warning them of the Red Threat as it was being called.

Her oldest daughter had also been returned to her with broken fingers, burns and a damaged leg from a mountain lion attack. Olenna spent a lot of time wondering what that part of the message meant; was the girl attacked by Lannister men in the mountains? Tyrion Lannister had recruited mountain clans men; is that what it referred to? Either way it was a pity, the girl could have been a good match for Willas but with his bad leg and her bad leg the two would make too weak a pair, their conditions would make them appear weak to the populace.

That brought her back to Margeary; she had gone to King's Landing to marry a King; now there was no King only Stannis, who had a wife. Tywin was too practical a man to let his grief over his daughter and grandchildren hold him back; he would keep Margeary as the key to HighGarden as they had kept the Stark girl as the key to the North. They called it a marital alliance but she would be his hostage; nothing more. As far as she could see Margeary had every right to be concerned; Tywin would claim her as a wife for himself or for one of his sons and Margeary didn't deserve a lord or a Lord's dwarf son or a Kingslayer; she deserved a King, someone tested and true with an excellent family tree and an equally excellent family seat who would respect her for herself and be led by her when needed for the greater good. She looked up at the wisp of a girl before her; she had a funny accent and wore the garb of a peasant; she had entered the room wearing the face of a tall dark man but now wore this face as if it was her own.

"I assumed that the faceless men only employed male assassins. Tell me my dear are you female all of the time?"

"All men must die and all men must serve, in the translation from High Vallerian this sounds like it is gender exclusive but it is actually inclusive of all genders."

"You say that as if there are more than two." The woman that had been a man just stared as if to say 'you say that as if there were only two'

"A Lady wishes to buy a name and so she has contacted us." The assassin asked.

"Yes, it may be a little difficult, a few months ago the woman was part of a group of healers who treated the injured regardless of social position or riches, now she is a queen"

"A woman will have to give me the name." Olenna looked down at the Raven note, why were faceless men so stuck on the name. There was only one person in the world she could mean, where was the confusion?

"Talisa Maegyr."

"A woman cannot give you this name."

"I can pay whatever price you wish."

"Price is not in question the name is. Queen Talissa Maegyr Stark is already with the many faced God." She sat back in her chair and stared at the assassin for a moment, assessing her options, the game was always changing and always the same.

"Then I am afraid I have wasted your time, thank you for your visit. How much is the consultation fee?"

"For such a good customer as yourself; no charge." Olenna curled her finger under her chin and smiled; a curious group these faceless men.

A few minutes later a raven was sent with her seal to the King's Landing Army which spoke of Iron born attacks up and down the coast; true but slightly exaggerated. In her missive she urged her Grandson to return home and to make haste. Loras was eager to prove himself in battle and it would be more productive for him to do it on their own home soils instead of against an undead enemy in a city that was a burnt out wreck she was no expert in the Red Sourceress's fire magic but one thing seemed to be true and that was that her power only extended around the immediate circumference of the siege with the exception of Lady Sansa's curse. What no one else knew, what her clever grandson and Granddaughter had discovered was that the perimeter was shrinking and weakening; the undead becoming more slow in their movements and sometimes falling into true death in some areas. Every day Loras had caught one of the undead and dragged it from the city until it stopped moving and marked the distance. The Red woman had burnt all of her offerings and her power waned. Olenna sat back and smiled as she decided to share this news with Lady Stark to put a concerned Mother's mind at ease and unify the Tyrell Stark families. The reports all said Rob Stark was handsome looks rarely last but she was confident he would please Margeary.

  
***********

They were having a feast in the great Hall to celebrate some victory over a besieged castle in the Riverlands; the real reason was morale was low as North men fought in the Riverlands while Ironborn raided their homes. Sansa had to leave as soon as the light began to fade and went to her room following the teen attendants who all ran ahead of her to make sure all lights and fires were put out before she approached. One of them wasn't thorough enough with a fire place and the flames burst forth as she passed and the young man was almost immediately engulfed in flames. The men carrying Sansa's cot ran further along the corridor to get away and the flames immediately died down; the youth only having singed his eyebrows. It was becoming a regular occurance barely worth taking note of. Sansa Stark was cursed; everyone knew it and once they took steps to protect themselves the curse was manageable. Hence all the flame retardant leathers now worn by the Riverland servants instead of the usual cloth doublets that were so fashionable in the South.

Thirty minutes after her maids had left her in her bed Sandor arrived at the door that the discreet bear Island women guarded for her. She ached for his touch and reached for him as soon as he stepped in.

"The Little Bird has bags under her eyes." She sighed deeply; she had known pretty soliloquies of love would not be her fate in this marriage but this was an unexpected beginning to love making, even for him.

"It's been a trying day, I need some tender loving care." She replied as her fingers began to unfasten the buttons of his tunic.

"I think the little bird needs some sleep." Her hands stilled in their progress as she tried to see his face clearly in the dimming twilight.

"You cannot be serious." His hands gently took both of hers and placed them back on her bed sheets as he climbed into the bed beside her.

"You need sleep, I remember how you used to cling to me at night on the road, even before we were fucking," she looked away with a sigh at his crass words. "You have no idea how much self control it took not to take you every night." Her face showed how scandalized she was as he lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them gently.  
"You look unwell and I know your leg doesn't pain you as much as you make out so why aren't you sleeping? Let's just try this for one night, see how we like it, we still have time in the morning to do as we please." He tucked an auburn curl behind her ear and kissed her cheek gently but instead of continuing along her cheek like he always did. He stopped at one and coaxed her into lying next to him. It was very odd just lying next to your lover without having done any of the actual loving. They moved around in the bed for a bit before he settled on his back and rested her head on his shoulder, their hands intertwined on his stomach, their legs intertwined under the sheets. 'This is ridiculous' she thought, she hadn't been sleeping lately but she didn't see how this would help. As his chest moved up and down she felt the softness of the woolen shirt he wore, it smelt of wool, lavender from the laundry room and him. He had his own scent she would know it anywhere. As his steady breathing rocked her to sleep she closed her eyes and breathed him in. It took less than five minutes for her to slip into a peaceful deep sleep and he held her in his arms and smiled to himself. She was convinced she was dying; that her hair turning white would prove her downfall. He wouldn't let her die. She was his and he would keep her safe and healthy or die trying. He kissed the top of her head and breathed in her scent; so unmistakably her.

**********

Margaery did not wait for a reply from her Grandmother, she could see the tide changing, she was no longer a valuable ally but a hostage, Tywin had sent extra men to watch her tent and guard her. She was scared, she had gotten one of her spies to find out what they could of the Lannister camp but every day she got more nervous. Escape, she had to escape before one of the Lannisters was forced on her as a husband. To that end she was surprised when Tyrion Lannister had visited her and her brother in one of their tents one evening. He was remarkably charming and witty, such a bold contrast to his Father who famously never laughed or smiled, he even brought his bed warmer Shea which Margaery was a little confused about.

"You see Lady Margaery I have a bit of a conundrum that I need help with." The last hour had been spent with him telling the most hilarious jokes and puns, he had brought several bottles of an excellent red wine from Essos and even made Loras smile which was something she hadn't seen since Renly's death or since they started the living nightmare that was the siege. "My Father wants us to marry." The smile instantly vanished from Loras's face and Margaery had to use all of her self control not to recoil in her seat. She usually enjoyed wearing low cut dresses but now she wished the neckline of her gown was a bit more modest.

"Lord Tyrion is this a proposal?" She tried to keep her voice light and airy though inside she felt like she was dying, why had they ever come to this cursed place? Why had she stayed after she heard Joffrey and Tommen were dead? She should have left immediately, she could be safe in Highgarden now.

"Of sorts my Lady" he took her hand in his and got on one knee, she had to try really hard not to let the disgust show on her face as Loras made to rise. "Would you do me the honour of not marrying me?"

"Lord Tyrion I fear there is some confusion-"

"My Father is...there is a long history between us that we do not need to go into now but you should know that I have no wish to force you into something you do not want, my Father has different ideas, if you do not wish to marry me or one of my Father's choosing then I suggest you leave now, leave your dresses, leave your trousseau. Just go, tell no one, go quickly, don't turn back and if Loras is capable then have a maid or someone mascarade as you within these walls so no one knows of your flight." Tyrion sat back  his chair the drunkenness in his eyes totally gone with the joviality in the room.

"This is very considerate of you Lord Tyrion but may I ask what you get out of this?" He sighed and looked to the woman beside him. She was handsome in an exotic sort of way and their hands were now intwined in each others.

"Shea here was Lady's maid to Lady Sansa it was the easiest and safest way for her to live in the Red Keep, I told her about the secret passages out of the Keep and that is how she escaped the night King's Landing fell, I went back for Cersei and Tommen but they weren't in Maegor's holdfast where they were supposed to be, Joffrey had run off hours earlier, I sent someone for Lady Sansa too but they never came back. You have no idea how relieved we both were when she sent us that letter, strange as it may sound I had great affection for the poor girl. She has lost so much because of me and my family." He finished with a sad sigh.

"As did I, that little shit of a King used to threaten to beat anyone who helped her after her beatings but I always helped her; bandaged her up and wiped the blood off and gave her tinctures for the pain." There is genuine emotion in the woman's voice and Margaery now believes all of the tales she had heard of the boy king's cruelty. Renly had told her about the incident with the cat and it had made her shudder. That's all Sansa Stark had been to him; a little animal for him to torture to death.

"It is no longer safe for Shea here, I was able to keep her hidden well enough but there are soldiers here and my Father has threatened to kill the next ...woman he finds me with," all the time he holds her hand and is stroking the back of it with his thumb like he doesn't want to let go. "All I ask is that you take her with you and help to get her set up in a different life, somewhere where he cannot harm her." The look of pleading in his eyes seems genuine.

"Of course Lord Tyrion, I would be delighted to have Shea accompany me back to Highgarden."

 


	17. Of Shoes and Ships and Sealing Wax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love Alice in Wonderland references don't you? 
> 
> Jamie and Brienne arrive at the siege.
> 
> Sandor starts to take steps to secure his future with Sansa while Shea and Margaery bond during their journey from the siege.

The last thing Margaery said to Lord Tyrion was that they would leave in the next few days and that they would go to Highgarden. Obviously neither of these things were the case. She had already packed an emergency bag for leaving, she was thankful that they had left the bulk of her Ladies' maids in Highgarden, it would really have been too difficult to try and smuggle herself and a dozen other young girls out of the encampment. The siege had proved too much for cousins delicate sensibilities early on and they had returned to HighGarden and to safety while she had stayed. She wasn't fool enough to trust Shea; the woman was a terrible lady's maid with no idea how to fold a dress properly but her knowledge of court gossip was pretty enlightening. The story of what Tywin had done to Tyrion's first wife had left a cold trail of sweat running down her spine. How could a man, any man treat his son and a girl, an innocent girl of fourteen that way? Maybe the girl had been a whore, maybe she had only been after the wealth of Casterly rock but isn't everyone after something? She was after a crown and a husband, Tywin was after power and Tyrion had been after love, so starved of love was he that he found it in unlikely places like a dark skinned whore who carried concealed daggers about her person.

The ship they were taking was small, not suitable for a daughter of Highgarden and therefore hopefully inconspicuous enough not to draw unwanted attention, she waited until the last possible minute before telling Shea that they were leaving the camp and then didn't let her out of her sight until they were on the boat. For her part Margaery planned to go to Bravos. It was closer than HighGarden and she could book package on a more comfortable ship for the final journey home. Travelling with them were the remaining few ladies she had taken with her to King's Landing and who had stayed for the worst of the siege instead of returning home in the first week as her cousins and the other girls had. He brother Garlan and his wife Leonette Fossoway were on the boat, it was too small to be considered a ship but it should hopefully get them there safely. The ladies all stayed in the Captains cabin which he had given to them and the men all slept outside on the deck. She tried to see the whole thing as a lucky escape or a great adventure but after the initial excitement of the escape there was just the continuous monotony of a sea journey, in close quarters with limited washing facilities. She was unaffected by the seasickness but her good sister was not so lucky so they spent a lot of time on the deck getting the salty breeze in their faces that they tried to protect from the damaging sun.

Shea was a wonder at these times and entertained them all with the funniest jokes, Margaery found herself drawn to the foreign camp follower who had been lady's maid to a princess and they talked at length about Lady Sansa and her time in King's Landing. What a Lucky escape she had had not to have married the boy King, Shea and she knew his type; the type that hurt people just to hear them scream and beg. He would have treated Margaery no different, she had the might of Highgarden and brothers with armies, Bannermen and knights but she would have been his wife; his property and no man has the right to come between a man and his wife. She shuddered at the thoughts of what he had done to the prostitutes lord Tyrion had secured for him, no she would have loved to have been Queen but not with him as her King.

It was on the forth day of their journey that Shea approached her as she sat under her umbrella on the deck with her brother.

"You said you were bringing me to Highgarden but the ship's mate just told me we are going to Bravos, which is it?" Shea was a shrewd woman, she must have been to go up in the world as she had. Margaery had seen the little bag of diamonds that she had been gifted by Lord Tyrion before they left the Tyrell camp.

"We will eventually go to HighGarden but we are going to Bravos first to secure a ship, hopefully a better ship with better supplies and to sort out a few things with some business interests we have there." Margaery answered in her usual lovely way. Shea sat down beside her as her brow furrowed in thought, she seemed to be thinking very seriously about something and it was a few minutes before she spoke again.

"I will not go to Highgarden." She finally said in her foreign drawl. "I will go North, Sansa will be glad to see me; perhaps I can be her lady's maid again." Of all the things she expected of a whore with a bag of diamonds to say this was not one of them.

"But Lady Sansa is returned to her family, they may see you as a spy and refuse to let you near her." Margaery tried to reason.

"I love that girl, I would have killed to keep her safe and she would have done the same for me." She sighed sadly. "She is probably different now that she is the sister of a king and not the daughter of a traitor, she probably would not be able to convince them to let me near her but....I was all she had in King's Landing, she was afraid all the time and I was the only one that comforted her. When I thought she was dead, when I thought she was in the city at the mercy of those monsters who burn people I felt like there was a weight here." She held her fist to her chest over her heart, "And then that note arrived for Tyrion, inside it was another note for me, all it said was 'please let me know Shea is safe', even when those deamons were after her and she was on the run for her life she was still concerned for me." Shea was playing with a handkerchief now that Margaery noticed had some unusually good embroidery on it of two birds from the summer isles; one with red feathers and the other with dark feathers merging into blue and green and indigo. She had never considered embroidery all that important herself but even she could see the quality and the skill that had been required to make such a thing.

"Of course you want to return to her, I had not appreciated the depth of your connection to her. First let us go to the Iron Bank and set you up an account, I do not like the idea of you traveling about the world with such riches in your pockets and then we'll find the best way for you to travel to the Stark Army, they were last stationed in Riverrun but they may well have moved." Shea perked up at this and nodded in agreement Margaery wasn't as positive as she was of the reception she would get from the Pirincess but she had promised Lord Tyrion she would look after Shea and making an ally of him could only be a wise decision in the long term.

When they arrived at bravos there were several messages waiting for her in the Iron Bank, she immediately took out some money and went shopping with her ladies and a few hired guards as well as the ones they had had on the ship. She would need a whole new wardrobe and wedding Trousseau; she heard things got very cold in the North.

*************

Sansa woke up feeling warm and safe, two things she had not felt in a while. Sandor   
was lying half under her, half next to her and had woken her by gently rubbing her back.

"You are such a heavy sleeper." He said in his deep voice, she heard the rhythmic roll of it through his rib cage as his whole chest moved with the sound.

"We slept too late, we don't have time to do anything before my maids arrive." She replied as he sat up and pulled her into a long lingering kiss, the type that made her toes curl and made her tingle so deep inside that she was breathless. He finished that kiss and then lightly brushed her lips with his, like he often did when they were just kissing. They had so rarely 'just kissed', it always lead to something more so this was a new experience for them. He climbed out of the bed and put back on his leather tunic from the night before then cupping her cheek he kissed her again.

"We have time, we will be together later." He promised as he kissed her again before leaving the room. She lay back and inhaled his scent from the pillows where he had been, before her eyes drifted shut and she fell asleep again.

Sandor left the room and nodded at the two guards on the door, it was so good to have them helping them but he was still worried of being seen. She looked healthier this morning after her long sleep but there was still an unhealthy thinness to her, a hollowness to her cheeks and though she never drew his attention to it he saw the state of her hair. Every evening and morning the white strands were put in a braid separate from the red strands and every morning and evening there were more white strands then before. He had let it go on long enough he needed to speak to someone.

He sat outside Lady Catelyn's solar waiting for admittance. Never in all of his years as a sworn shield had he approached someone about his charge's health. Joffrey's only medical complaint had been of the mental variety and his mother fed his arrogance while ignoring his cruelty but other than that the royal children had always been kept in the most excellent of health. So he had never needed to do anything for them

This was different, as different as could be.

They were ushered in by the guard at the door to find Lady Catelyn sitting in front of a writing desk, she looked so much like Sansa and not like her that he had to remind himself to talk to her differently, he could not slip up and address this woman as if he was anything but a low born vassal.

"My guards tell me you wish to see me Clegane." She is less cold toward him than she was when she first met him but there is still an iciness in her tone that puts him in his place.

"Your Grace I am concerned for Princess Sansa's wellbeing." He replies, hoping that she does not take offense at his forwardness, part of him knows he can never openly acknowledge Sansa as his wife and part of him is still foolish enough to hope he one day could.

"Has something happened? Is it her leg?" She asks in concern.

"It is not that it is..." He shifted his feet uncomfortably to try and find the words. "She is so angry, all the time, she was never like that in King's Landing. At first I thought she was just letting go of two years of repressed rage but now...It has gone on for too long, I've heard the way she speaks to you and your son. That's not S-the Lady Sansa I knew in King's Landing she was angry but she was mostly scared and she never blamed you and your son for what happened to her, not like she does now and... I don't know how to put it into words but the girl I saw ordering wolves to tear a man to pieces the girl I saw who pushed her brother into hitting her is not the girl I knew in King's Landing. I think maybe this sourcery that the Red Witch worked is affecting her in ways we didn't realise, like she's making her an angrier more hateful version of her true self." Lady Catelyn's face betrayed the hope she was feeling in her breast, could that be it? Could her girl just be a victim of magic and not the hateful, vengeful young woman she had been scorned by so many times?

"If this is the case then what can we do? As you say it could just be rage she has built up inside during her imprisonment." She replied carefully.

"I think not, for most of the journey here she was hopeful and excited to see her family again, she wept so bitterly when she heard of her little brothers and now...Your old Gods, the one her Father followed are there any priests who would be able to- I'm not sure but perform an exorcism? Or something similar?" Catelyn sat back in her chair as she pondered this request.

"We have a Septon in Riverrun who-"

"The Seven have no power over the Red Woman, They turned the Great Sept of Baelor in King's Landing into Temple to the Red God and burnt all the effigies, I doubt they can help her, it was the weirwoods we found in the forest that time that saved her, they killed the Reds and gave her the power over the wolves, The Reds could not cross into that sacred grove, The Seven Gods did not have that power, I think if I'm right than they are the only ones that can help her now." Catelyn didn't know how to respond to that and continued to twirl her quill between her fingers which reminded him so much of Sansa and how she fiddled with her hands when she was nervous.

"What can we do? She spends hours with those Weirwood trees every day, the few times I have mentioned it she has scorned me and refuses to visit the Sept, I don't know how we can help her." She was listening to him and agreeing with him which was a start.

"Even that is a sign that something is wrong, she was the most devout person I had ever known in King's Landing and was always praying to one set of Gods or the other. She doesn't cry anymore which I find equally strange. She used to cry in her sleep all the time in King's Landing and later on on our journey; when her sleep wasn't interrupted by magic that is. Her night terrors were so bad one of her lady's maids used to sleep with her every night, now she doesn't have them at all."

"Well she's safe now, she's back with her family, it's to be expected isn't it?" She replied.

"No, once you've suffered as many traumas as she has night terrors become a constant way of life atleast for a time especially when you're a victim who has seen blood shed but she hasn't had any night terrors since returning here. Apart from the sourcery related visions which don't count" Catelyn's mind went back to when she was first married and Ned had returned from Robert's Rebellion; by day he had been strong but sullen and hard working to put everything in Winterfell to rights but by night he was always back on the battlefield, sometimes shouting out for men sometimes crying into his pillow. She learnt early on that waking him just caused him to panic, sometimes lashing out as if he thought some enemy was in the room with him so instead she had cradled him in his arms and hummed to him, she had tried to be tender and consoling to this man she didn't know but found herself married to with his hulking figure who although he had not demanded his husbandly rights since his return she was still nervous of him when he got into their bed at night. He seemed so much bigger and more imposing than he had when they were in Riverrun on their wedding night. Every night she held him and cradled him in her arms as he slept, it was on the eighth morning like this that he had woken up in her arms and told her how good she was and started kissing her. She had wanted the fairy tale of true love bringing them together but as it was it was pain and trauma, it took years for his night terrors to stop and even then they had returned on occasion, she had always been there to comfort him though. Then he had been drawn into another war, another rebellion and his sleep was as bad as ever. She remembered asking him at the time what the men on the battle field did when they had these terrors to which he had replied; we don't get them there, we don't get them when we're living in a nightmare it is only when we are home and safe that these memories haunt us in our dreams.

"It could be the milk of the poppy she is taking for her leg." She said trying to be practical and logical in a world that has clearly gone mad if The Lannister Hound is concerned about her daughter's sleeping habits which was a whole other thing she would worry about later.

"She hasn't had any for a few days and besides the poppy often makes the night terrors more vivid and upsetting rather than stopping them completely." Catelyn nodded, it was true she had observed this herself.

"I will speak to a few of the Northerners about it, I confess I know very little of The Old Gods when it comes to these things. Thank you for telling me of your concerns Clegane." He bowed and was about to leave the room when Robb was announced, he came in holding a scroll and looking addled.

"Clegane I'm glad I found you we have news from the twins and I'm afraid your brother has taken it, the Frey men we have in our army are pretty livid and out for your blood, they want your head. I'm not going do that but we have to get you out of here.."

"Send me to the Twins." Sandor immediately said

"What?! Certainly not, I can keep you on as my sister's sworn shield after all you did for her but I can't willingly let you return to the Lannister service."

"Not to join them. To kill them, let me fight for you, I'm worth five men in any battle and if you want someone to kill my brother than I'm your man."He replied as Robb searched his face for any sign of deceit

"Might I remind you kin slaying is a sin and a crime Against Gods and men." Lady Catelyn warned.

"No one complained when he murdered my Father or when they found my little sister's body." Everyone in the room gaped at him in shocked silence.

"Is this true?" Robb asked in disbelief.

"Few people have ever accused me of being a liar. They wouldn't let me see my sister's body and when I saw my Father slung over the back of a horse like a deer carcass and Gregor leading the horse by the reins I knew what happened, I knew what he did, I was eleven then and hadn't a hope of defeating him, I'm not eleven anymore." There was an uncomfortable look in Robb's eyes as he tried to decide his next move but all he could think of was what Sandor had said. Theon's betrayal had hurt him and what he had done to his little brothers Was like having a knife permanently shoved in his back the pain was so great. The only thing that had consoled him was that Theon wasn't actually of his blood, he was a kraken and it was Robb fault for forgetting that and the history of their two families; the older brothers Theon had had that had died in his Father's rebellion. When Theon returned to Pike he must have been told more about them and encouraged by his hateful fairly he had seeked vengeance for them. Robb tried to understand but he could never forgive it while Sandor...Gregor was a brother of his blood and had done that. He could be making a mistake, trusting someone who would betray him just as Theon had, just as Bolton tried to do.

"My men would never stand for it, they would see you as the enemy and would likely cut you down in the heat of battle." Sandor rubbed his chin in deep contemplation.

"What if I gave you money." There was a snort from one of the guards at this statement but Sandor continued. "I won a King's ransom in the Tourney of the Hand, I put a lot of it in the Iron Bank for safe keeping and your sister made sure to take the rest with us when we escaped King's Landing, I can lend the crown the gold or buy a Lordship from you outright, if that would make your men more amenable to me" and don't tell me you don't need the money, all wars are expensive and wise kings borrow what they need."

"Why would you do that? Lend us the money I mean, it must be all you have?" He asked in disbelief.

"Few different reasons," he glanced towards the window with a sigh, if this kept him closer to her then he must do it. "A soldier needs to be part of an army otherwise what is he?" Robb considered him for a moment as he remembered a saying his Father used to have: 'the lone wolf dies, the pack survives' having made an enemy of his liege Lord and with a brother like that he supposed Sandor really had no where else to go. "Besides my dear brother is probably dug in deep in the Twins with no intention of meeting your men on the field but have me ride next to you, My Hound's Helm with the Stark colors. He'll be out of that castle to meet us on the field faster than shit off a stick." Lady Catelyn frowned at the language but Robb had to suppress a grin.

"You really think he hates you that much? His own brother?" He asked in disbelief.

"I know he does." He answered honestly.

*********  
When people say 'we must leave immediately' or 'there is not a moment to loose' what they really mean is we're going to spend the next few hours organizing the packing, horses, food, men, travel arrangements etc. Sandor knew this to be the case but he still packed and readied everything himself; part of him thrilled at the anticipation of battle but was in turmoil with his well disciplined army trained side. He had signed a contract with King Robb, a representative of the Iron Bank copied out the contract and sent it by raven to Main The Iron Bank while Sandor signed a piece of paper that represented 40,000 gold dragons, more than he had ever hoped to own in his lifetime, he was damn fool to lend it all to the King at 1% interest to be paid back in five years or to be given a property of equal worth from the crown. It was nearly everything he had apart from the diamond the blacksmith had hidden in the metal of his helm and the other five thousand in Gold Dragons he had hidden in the bank under a different name. His horse, his armour and Sansa. The travel, the protection and the reason for them all. They were all he had and all he needed apart from a sword, he had exclusively used Ice during his journey and lost his own longsword in the Keep, he would have to get a new one from somewhere, musing on this he turned to head to the armory to find her standing in the doorway of his room.

He could feel the heat of her anger from across the room and even though he knew it shouldn't he found it incredibly arousing.

"When were you planning to tell me you were leaving me?" There is such hurt in her eyes that he can' t help but smile.

"I'm not leaving you-"

"Your riding to the Twins with Robb, Everyone's talking about it!"

"Yes, I'm leaving Riverrun but I'm not leaving you, is what I'm trying to say." There are tears falling from her eyes now that touch him deep inside where he wasn't sure he still had a heart.

"You can't go, you'll be killed, what's happening to me happens faster when you are not around, did you know that? Did you know that more of my hair turns white when we're apart than when we are together?" He sighed in acknowledgement.

"I had guessed but I wasn't sure, Sansa-" He moved forward and took her hands, stilling her frantic fidgeting, "I want us to be together, properly, seen as husband and wife by all, part of that is going to take doing this: earning your brother's respect and trust. When we can be openly wed then we can be together all the time and your hair will stop changing."

"It's not just about my hair changing it's about what my hair changing means." She replied in anguish as he pulled her into a hug with her cheek resting against his chest.

"I know what it means, it means the gods be damned sourcery is still messing with you in new and dangerous ways but they won't get you. When we return from the Twins your brother will see the change to your hair and he'll know we are not making it up. Then I'll ask for your hand, it will be alright I have no intention of dying now that I am so close to having you." They stood like that for a while with him holding her and stroking the little hairs at the back of her neck in his loving way.

  
"If you stay away too long then I may...The hair is a symptom of something greater, if you stay away too long then the greater thing might take me over."

"I know that's why I will return as quick as I can."

Not knowing when he would get to hold her again he held onto her for a long while as the dutiful guards stayed at the door and gave no hint of what they had seen and heard. The only one who knew any of it was the trustee of the Iron Bank who Sandor had named executor of his will which was sealed, one copy was sent to the Iron Bank and the other was in the trustee's office. All the trustee knew was that in the event of his death Sandor Clegane had left his money in its entirety to one person and if that person was dead then the money was absolutely to never go to his brother but to be given to the Starks of the North. The trustee had no idea the one person was Sansa.

  
**********

In King's Landing Tywin raged, the damn Iron Born had attacked his fleet in Lannisport again. They had used excellerents and stealth to smuggle themselves into the Harbour and burn all the ships. The Tyrells had proven themselves to be as fickle as he had always thought. Renly's tramp having flown the nest in the dead of night leaving behind only her brother and his dwindling army and supplies. Everything had rested on the girl marrying into his family but now all they had was Loras and he was out of female relations to marry him to. There was always Myrcella in Dorn, the Martells had proven completely ineffective as allies. Perhaps it would be better to ask for Marcella back unless they were willing to join the war effort in a more leading role? Then there was news from the wolves in the North. Sandor Clegane who he had taken in when the boy was homeless and penniless and raised up to the position of the crown Prince's shield and later a member of the King's Guard. That little shit had accepted a position on the King's small council, it was said he had leant the crown 40,000 gold Dragons; his entire tourney winnings. His fists clenched at the memory of lending Fat Robert that damned gold for that damned tourney that was now being used to fund an army against him. If he was prone to flights of rage he would have attacked something or killed someone in his fury but he needed to focus. The Kraken was attacking Lannisport yes but it was also attacking the north, Clegane's placement on the small council would alienate several of the Northern Lords, men whose own homes were being plundered by Iron born, while the Riverlord's would remember The Mountain's work.

He may still have a chance; Bolton had a bastard that he had planned to legitimize but had never succeeded, this boy had been writing to him since his Father's death promising all sorts of rewards if the Lannister armies supported him in his fight for the North. He had already taken Winterfell back from the Iron Born and held that with the Dreadfort along with the heir to the Iron Islands; Theon Greyjoy or so he claimed. Tywin was cautious about forming an alliance with someone he didn't know but the dire situation in the North demanded drastic measures.

Tyrion's pet sellsword ran up to the tent then and demanded to speak with him. He gritted his teeth at the impertinence of the fellow.

"Lord Tywin! Ser Jamie has returned." The sellsword's face was beaming with delight but Tywin returned to his papers.

"Tell him to come to me as soon as he can." The sellsword looked around at the empty tent then nodded and left returning to Tyrion's tent where the two brothers had reunited. The great aurochs of a woman who had traveled with him seemed out of place in the family reunion and Tyrion was just starting to tell Jamie of his sister's and 'nephews' deaths.

"How did they die?" He asked in a choked voice. Bronn sighed and looked away, no easy way to break news like that to a broken man.

"Lady Sansa wrote to us after she escaped the city, she was forced to watch many...'offerings' to the fire god the Baratheons worshipped." Tyrion was skirting the issue trying not to say aloud the full horror of what was visited upon his nephews and their mother.

"Tyrion... How did they die?" Even with one hand, covered in dirt of the road from travel and dishevelled as he is he still looks Iike a knight you wouldn't want to cross in a fight. Out of the corner of his eye Bronn notices the woman reach as if to comfort him before stopping herself. They said she was his jailer during his trip but he suspects there was more to it than that.

"Jamie I'm so sorry, they were ...burned. Lady Sansa wrote that they were doing this to all the Highborns, there was nothing she could do to help them but she sent us a list of all the deaths and the days they occurred." Jamie has tears running from his eyes now and looks away which Bronn and the woman take as the signal to leave him to his grief.

Outside the tent he has a better view of the woman and her size is impressive in an intimidating sort of way. At a loss what to say to her or what to do with her he settles for the thing that as an experienced sellsword that had traveled the length and breath of the country he knew she would appreciate.

"Grub tent is that way, shall we get a bowl?" She looked back at the tent flap hesitantly and then nodded. She was an extremely proper Lady for all that she had the height and disposition of a knight. He usually wolfed his food down as soon as he had it, best way to avoid eating cold food but she said a prayer to the seven before daintily picking up her spoon and carefully eating.

"So how did it come about that you rescued Ser Jamie?" He asked as he got them a jug of ale and poured two goblets. Lords have wine but soldiers have ale and if drunk right it could be as filling as a meal.

"I am here at the behest of Lady Catelyn Sark who wished me to return Ser Jamie in exchange for her daughters Lady Sansa and Lady Arya, could you tell me what news there is of the girls? Lord Tyrion seemed to be under the impression Lady Sansa had escaped, is her sister with her or still in the Red Keep?" Bronn sighed in exasperation at all the lies this woman had been told.

"Lady Arya has been missing since before her Father was killed, no one knows what has become of her and that's a fact. Lady Sansa was in the Keep when King's Landing fell, she got out on her own with and we only just heard this bit, have you ever heard of The Hound? Sandor Clegane? Apparently he's joined her brother's army now after he got her safely home." Lady Brienne sat back in contemplation.

"So one daughter is safe and the other missing and the Gods' know where." She bit her lip in contemplation just as Ser Loras Tyrell came into the tent, he strode straight up to them and looked Lady Brienne in the eye who immediately rose and bowed not taking her eyes off him. He sat across from her at the bench and gave Bronn a nod in way of greeting.

"I heard Ser Jamie had returned with a tall blond woman dressed as a knight and I figured it was you."

"Ser Loras please let me explain what happened...what happened the night King Renly was killed. I did everything I could to save him but...It was sourcery; a shadow with Stannis Baratheon's face, it came in and stabbed him so quickly, it had no form, no body. I tried to fight it but as soon as it had appeared and... killed our king it was gone. I know this sounds fantastical and-"

"It doesn't. For the longest time I thought you willfully tricked him into trusting you and then murdered him. I thought your letters were your way of mocking us but three weeks of killing an army of the undead tends to make one a little more open minded." He took Bronn's goblet of ale and raised it to her, "To King Renly."

"To King Renly" She replied and they both drank.

"Why are you here? I thought you had aligned with the Stark camp?" He asked as Bronn went to get himself another goblet.

"I serve Lady Catelyn Tully Stark and am here to negotiate the return of her daughters for Ser Jamie."

"Oh. The Kingslayer is back?" Loras asked dismissively

"He prefers to be called Ser Jamie" Loras considered her for a moment before he spoke again.

"Well, it seems Lady Sansa got justice for our King; she killed Stannis but his Red Woman raised him up again and he now sits on the Iron Throne wearing a veil to hide his features so either its Stannis raised again or someone claiming to be him." Brienne looked out at the dark cloud that covered the city under a constant shroud made up of the ashes of the dead and burnt.

Loras and Brienne spoke for a while and he even brought her to his tent so she could write a message to Lady Catelyn. Having heard everything about the war she knew what her mission must be but she wanted her Lady's approval first. Loras was so different from the young man who had scorned her on the melee field that day and told Renly not to recruit her to his rainbow guard because she was a woman. There were deep bags under his eyes that had a haunted look that showed the true grief and pain he had suffered these last months.

When Jamie finally found her she was returning from the front with Loras where the two had rode out to meet her first Reds. She was frowning in that way that showed she was deep in thought when she saw Jamie before her.

"Wench! I thought you weren't going to leave my side until you had completed your mission. I've looking for you for three hours!" He was angry with her, there were men in this camp who thought nothing of raping a woman and although she liked to think herself as a knight she was still a woman. He had gone to his Father's tent expecting a lot of things, not a heart touching reunion, Tywin Lanniser would never give such a thing but something, some acknowledgement of their grief and loss would have been nice. Instead he was reprimanded for not getting there sooner so he could marry the Tyrell girl who had flown in the night. Jamie had tried to bring the conversation back around to Cersei and the children but his Father's constant indifference to their fates forced him to leave the tent. He was so furious, so grief stricken and Brienne wasn't there. She had been with him for months refusing to leave his side no matter how much he goaded her and now when he really needed her, when she should have been with him she was off in the camp somewhere. With his ragged clothes, disheveled appearance and stump where his hand had been he was not recognized by any of the men and wandered the camp in a near frenzy trying to find her. the last he had seen she had gone off with Tyrion's man who he didn't know anything about and the last time... He tried not to think about the last time they had been separated when he found her in the Pitt fighting furiously against the bear with her wooden sword. He'd jumped in without thinking. Everyone said he was always doing things without thinking; stabbing the mad King, accepting a place on the King's Guard, pushing the boy....It had all stemmed from that act, from that little boy whose body was now on display in Winterfell the Greyjoy boy having killed him. If the boy had been able to walk, able to run maybe he would be alive. Maybe Cersei, Joffrey and Tommen would be alive too and this war never would have started and they could be celebrating Joffrey's wedding to the Stark girl now........

"I was showing Lady Brienne the front Ser Jamie, she wanted to understand more about the creatures we have been fighting. I apologize if this caused any inconvenience." He said the last as if he wasn't really sorry, he hadn't cared for the Kingslayer's tone when he had addressed Brienne and how disrespectful he had been when he called her wench.

"The dead are rising and killing the living Ser Jamie, it is a continuous battle with no end in sight save one. We must speak somewhere more private." They dismounted their horses and headed back to Lord Tyrion's tent, it had occurred to him before that there were very few torches or candles in the tents and around them but he had been so concerned with finding Brienne that he had not really thought anything of it. It was only when he entered Tyrion's tent and saw that his squire had not lit a fire despite the dampness of the evening that he spoke up.

"Boy light a fire in here it's cold this evening." Jamie told the boy.

"No Jamie." Tyrion spoke up. "No fires the Red Woman can see and hear things through them. Safer to have no flames lit when we discuss important affairs." Jamie scoffed in disbelief until he saw that no one else in the room was laughing.

"My Lords I will be brief, I have read the messages in Lady Sansa's somewhat illegible hand, I have read the reports from the front and visited it myself. I swore to Lady Catelyn that I would return Ser Jamie to King's Landing and return her daughters to her safe or die in the attempt, according to the people I have talked to both the girls have escaped, one made it home the other lost for so long I do not know where to begin searching for her. However I can still keep my oath to Lady Catelyn, Lady Sansa wrote that the Red Woman had cursed her and her death would mean Lady Sansa's freedom, I have written to Lady Catelyn to have her confirm this and if it is so I mean to go into the city."

"Wench you can't there is an army and a siege going on." Jamie immediately said, she looked toward Lord Tyrion.

"You got out, can you get me in the same way?"

"It depends," Tyrion answered, "What do you mean to do when you get in there?"

''Lord Stannis is guilty of Kinslaying, his red Woman used sourcery to murder King Renly at Stannis's behest, I know because I was there; I watched a shadow with Stannis Baratheon's face stab our King and I was powerless to stop it. I mean to execute them both for these heinous crimes as I swore to do as a member of the Rainbow Guard."

"Wench don't be ridiculous, you cannot get into the Red Keep alone, you wouldn't know how to find the throne room or-"

"But I do, I squired for Renly in the red Keep and I lived in King's Landing for years, between the two of us we will get around quite well." Loras answered and even though Jamie knew he wasn't a threat, seeing as how he liked men more than women, he couldn't help but get jealous when he saw the look they gave each other. Like they had an understanding that he had no part in.

"You don't know the Red Keep as well as me, I've lived there for years and I know all the alcoves and secret passages that would make getting around much easier." Everyone in the room is now thinking of what he used to do with his knowledge of secret passages but he doesn't care. He jumps first thinks later, always had.

"Ser Jamie, you have not trained with a sword in over a year and you are still recovering after your illness." Brienne tried to reason with him.

"Who said anything about using swords? What we require is stealth and secrecy, this will be work done in the shadows wench, you cannot face these people head on."

"You don't have to do this." She said looking him in the eye.

"I do. They killed my king too, I never got to serve him after he was crowned but he was my king and you're going to train me so I'll be ready to do it."

***********

On a ship headed to Mereen a simple sailor watched as the Father tried to show his daughter how to tie sea knots. They had picked up the fishermen and his daughter in a small fishing town South of King's Landing where they bought their passage east. The little girl was charming and shy with ears she would one day grow into. It was curious how often the little girl spent looking at her reflection, as if she had never seen her face before. Her Father doted on her and treated her like she was a princess instead of the refugee they both were. They had managed to escape the chaos of King's Landing and were heading for somewhere new the Father had said. It was unlucky to have a woman on a ship but so far these two had been good passengers and the Father; Davey knew all the sea jokes, born to the sea as he was which unfortunately could not be said of his little girl but she had now gotten a bit of rosiness to her cheeks from the fresh sea breeze. It put the sailor in mind of his own little girl and how she was when ever he was home after a long absence. Lilly held up the knot she had been doing with pride and showed her Father who beamed at her the way only a Father can. In the evenings she taught him how to read from the one huge book she had with two dragons carved on the front.

 

 


End file.
